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A NEW WOMAN 


BY 


- / 

JESSIE DeFOLIART HAMBLIN 





CHICAGO 

CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY 
175 Monroe Street 



o ^ 


Copyright 1895, by 

Jessie DeFoliart Hamblin 


Unity Library, No. 48. Monthly, $3.00 a year. August, ISD') 

Entered at the Postoffice, Chicago, as second class matter. 


A NEW WOMAN 


CHAPTER I. 

It is an August evening in the metropolis of Eng- 
land. Two gentlemen are seated in an elegantly 
appointed room, talking politics, society and scandal. 

“But, my lord, I do not agree with you.” 

“Certainly not, Sir Alfred; I didn’t expect it. 
You never agree with any one. But, let’s change the 
subject. Just look at this picture. That — that ob- 
ject is a female; in other words a woman; and that 
thing she has on is a divided skirt; and this you 
probably recognize to be a cigar. It’s going to be 
the fashion pretty soon. Isn’t it horrible! Just 
think of it, Sir Alfred, just think of making love to 
a divided skirt. Is your imagination vivid enough 
to picture it? Wiiat is the world coming to?” 

“My lord, the world is going to hell at a Nancy 
Hanks speed. Women, instead of trying to lift men 
to their standard, are lowering themselves to ours, 
and we know that has never been very high, mor- 
ally. But I suppose the poor things have become 
discouraged; have grown tired of pulling against the 
tide and concluded to turn and go with us.” 

“You are much too particular. It isn’t the wom- 
en of to-day that I’m objecting to, but the inevitable 
divided skirt. Of course, it will be all right after 


G 


A NEW WOMAN 


we become accustomed to it, but at first it will be 
rather embarrassing, you know. We will half im- 
agine that we are making love to one of our own sex. 
Oh, confound it, it will be very unpleasant for a 
little while.” 

“The world is going to hell, that’s all, ” Sir Alfred 
said with calm earnestness. 

“Well, you must admit the trip is very pleasant 
and exciting.” 

“It certainly is exciting and there is a kind of un- 
bridled pleasure about it, but there is no heart-felt 
happiness, no serene contentment.” 

“No such things live to-day, except in poetry. 
You were born too late. A hundred years ago women 
were chaste and their delight was in their husbands, 
but the world no longer produces the sort of women 
you admire. It’s all bosh about the sacredness of 
the fireside, anyway. We’ve outlived such nonsense. 
Oh, every woman has her hero, I suppose, but she’s 
gotten over wanting to live with just him forever and 
ever, on an island. The honeymoon is cpiite long 
enough for her to see no one but her husband and 
much too long for him to see no woman but his wife. 
But have some wine to wash down my argument. 
You see, we’ve been out of school nearly twenty j^ears 
and surely have gotten over hunting for an Alice 
Darvil or a Sybil Warner. They are simply not to 
be found in our set, and English gentlemen can’t 
marry beneath their rank, unless, indeed, they go to 
America.” 

“Is the wine something new?” 

“Yes, I just got a cask of it a few days ago.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


1 


“From where?’’ 

“Well, I should say hell, if I didn’t know it came 
from France. Say, it will make your hair stand on 
end if you take mor^ than one glass.” • 

“Nonsense, it doesn’t taste so sharp. It’s splendid. 
Let me taste it again,” and Sir Alfred poured out a 
second glass. 

“Certainly, certainly! I never stop from fear of 
consequences. That’s it, take another. But say, 
have you met Lord Melton’s bride yet?” 

“I’ve seen her, but haven’t met her. Quite good 
looking, but I don’t see how she could have married 
him. There isn’t anything about him to attract an 
intelligent woman’s attention; poor, too. ” 

“Why, he has a title.” 

“Yes.” 

“And she is an American.” 

“Y-e-s.” 

“It’s as plain as day, now, isn’t it?” 

“I’m afraid it is. But isn’t it growing terribly 
disgusting, the way Americans toady to our aristoc- 
racy? It was bad enough in the women, but now 
the men are beginning to come here. I tell you. 
Lord Avon, I haven’t words to express my contempt 
for the snobs. They are despised as much by true 
Englishmen as by true Americans. Equally despic- 
able is the conduct of our noblemen who take their 
impoverished titles to an American market.” 

“Sir Alfred, for heaven’s sake, hush. I didn’t 
know that any Englishman would bring such an 
accusation against his own land. I know that over 
in America they think that every titled man who 


8 


A NEW WOMAN 


sets foot upon their soil is in quest of an heiress. 
Tliat isn't all; they are so devilish frank tlie}" don’t 
hesitate tO tell you so, in nO very delicate way 
either.” Loi’d Avon looked very much disgusted as 
he reached for another glass of wine. “But you are 
the first Englishman I ever heard rail at our society. ” 
His lordship’s face was beginning to flush as the wine 
flowed more freely. 

“Well, it’s the truth, my lord. England has im- 
poverished nobles, and America has rich daughters. 
The exchange is fair enough, as both parties are sat- 
isfied; but the sitectacle is nauseating, just the same. 
Reach me the wilie. Now,as for me, I’m a true Briton, 
every heart-throb is true to dear old England ; but — 
but I must admit, I must say what I have never said 
before, that she is retrograding, that she is becoming 
polluted. She is rotten to the core; from palace to 
hovel, from prince to peasant.” Sir Alfred s])oke 
rapidly. The winC had overcome his habitual reserve. 

“Thiiik what you please, say what you please, but 
don’t slander old England. DonH yon dander old 
Kncjland. She’s all right. England for aristocracy 
and America for heiresses, every time. Hurrah for 
good old England! America is all right; bless her 
pretty daughters. I may go there for a wife some 
day, m3^self; in fact, the more I think about it, the 
more I think I will. Yes, I will. Sir Alfred, I chal- 
lenge you — I challenge you to a contest, and bet you 
fifty pounds that I can go to America and be engaged 
to an heiress before you are.” 

“Do you mean that you will simply be engaged first 
or that you can be married first?” 


A NEW WOMAN 


9 


meant engaged, and I can, too; but if I’m not 
married first. I’ll forfeit the bet, for I say I can do 
it, and I will do it. Sir Alfred, aren’t you going to 
take the bet? Surely an English gentleman — ” 

“Fifty pounds! Why didn’t your lordship bet a 
pair of cuffs?” 

“Sir Alfred, an English gentleman won’t take such 
a taunt coolly. I’ll bet you fifty thousand. Do you 
accept?” 

“Most certainly; do you mean to insult me by in- 
sinuating that I would hesitate to do so?” 

Here they shook hands. The thing was settled and 
so were they, to some extent. That fifty thousand 
acted as a cooler. They moved away from the wine 
and sat down in another part of the room. 

“Did I understand, your lordship, that marriage 
must follow if such an engagement take place? You 
know a gentleman would feel a little delicate about 
marrying a woman he had bet on.” 

“I should think he’d feel a little delicate about 
backing out of an engagement; however, that rests 
with each as a private matter.” 

“My lord, shall we have a contract?” 

“I think, that as we are Englishmen, our word is 
quite enough. Yours, at least, is sufiicient for me.” 

“Very well then.” 

“Does your cigar taste strong. Sir Alfred?” 

“Why, no, I hadn’t noticed anything of the sort.” 

“Well, mine does. My head feels infernally light 
and queer.” 

A sickly smile crossed Sir Alfred’s face. He knew 
very well that he was drunk and saw no reason why 


10 


A NEW WOMAN 


Lord Avon should not be also. Certainly enough 
wine had flowed, and the excessive bet constituted 
strong testimony. 

Lord Avon is a typical Englishman; five feet ten 
in height; weighs one hundred and eighty pounds; 
is well built and carries himself with dignity. He 
has the prettiest blonde hair, silken and curly as a 
baby’s, and the most beautiful of all beautiful mus- 
taches, which he pets and caresses constantly. He 
hasn’t an enemy in the world; everybody loves him 
quite as much as he does himself. 

Sir Alfred is taller, and although not so handsome 
as his friend, is more distinguished looking, possess- 
ing a strong face and reserved, almost haughty man- 
ners. He is an only child of Lord Gates, a baron of 
much political sagacity and indefatigable energy, 
but whose example excites no emulation in his son, 
for at the age of thirty-eight Sir Alfred has accom- 
plished nothing for himself, and stands looking dis- 
dainfully on while others less gifted than himself 
push forward and secure higher seats. 

These two young men were great friends at school 
and are friends yet, in a worldly way, but they have 
long since gotten over the desire to share all their 
secrets; and now tell each other only of such affairs 
as any friendly acquaintance might be permitted to 
know. Like all English gentlemen, they drink, and 
often to excess, but to-night’s spree has gone beyond 
all precedent, as even their muddled minds are be- 
ginning to suggest. His lordship threw his half- 
smoked cigar away — he never smoked more than half 
of a cigar, lest it might burn his mustache — and 
looked at his watch. 


A NEW WOMAN 


11 


“What time is it?” Sir Alfred asked. 

“Half past one, but I’m infernally sleepy.” 

“So am I. I’m going home. ” 

“Don-’t hurry, don’t hurry. Let’s have some more 
wine; might as well enjoy ourselves while we may.” 

“No, no, I’ll go home and to sleep.” 

“Good-night, Sir Alfred; pleasant dreams, ” gayly 
chattered his lordship as his friend departed, feeling 
thoroughly disgusted, heartily sick of the evening’s 
recklessness. 


CHAPTER II. 

The next day when Lord Avon opened his pretty 
brown eyes, something very like an oath was breathed 
through his blonde mustache. 

“Fifty thousand pounds, as I’m an Englishman! 
Now% what could have induced me to make such a 
bet? I really can’t understand at all. It was cer- 
tainly very careless in me. Ho'wever, it is done, and 
a geivtleman never backs down. But I must win 
that bet; to lose it would be my ruin. Let me see — 
what one had I better take. There was Miss Cameron, 
sensible and rich, but I believe that she was to have 
been married before this, so she doiPt count. Then 
there’s Senator Smith’s daughter, but if I have been 
rightly informed, her father has gone to the wall. 
That lets her out. Miss Craig was sensible and rich, 
])ut she had big feet and such a lusty waist ; I couldn’t 
think of her. Lady Avon must have small feet 


12 


A NEW WOMAN 


and a taper waist as'well as a million dollars. Miss 
Racine was distractingly pretty, but much too fast. 

I liked her, by Jove, I did, but she won’t do to marry. 
Let’s see; are there any more? Yes. Miss Easton; 
quite pretty, very nice and rich; besides, her father 
is a congressman. Miss Easton will do, I guess. She 
wasn’t engaged, but I can pretend I thought she was. 
If I remember right she was going to a female col- 
lege; so it isn’t likely she’s married, as she hadn’t 
graduated. I think I flirted with her a little. I guess 
that I can arrange it without any very elaborate 
explanations. Yes, I can get her all right.” He 
touched the bell and his valet entered. 

‘‘Here, Adams, get some cold water and bathe my 
head, first thing, then some wine, my coffee, and 
attend to my toilet.” 

Adams slid about noiselessly, performing his duties 
as systematically as the clock ticks olf the minutes; 
and in half an hour his master was bathed, combed, 
brushed and perfumed, and looked and felt as fresh 
as a dew drop. 

“Why, Sir Alfred, good-morning! I didn’t expect 
tt) find you here,” he said upon meeting his friend 
in the hall, when going to breakfast. “Have you 
breakfasted yet?” 

“No. I thought you wouldn’t beat me, so I came 
for you and am barely in time, I see. But — I-^I — 
believe we made a rather foolish bet last night, and 
I just thought if you wanted to retract — ” 

“Certainly not, certainly not! I’m an Englishman 
and a man of honor. I will not retract unless you 
wdsh — ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


13 


“I? No, indeed. I was just thinking of you; you 
know your fortune is not so large as it was ten years 
ago. ” 

“Very kind of you, Sir Alfred! to think of me, 
but your kindness is a little offensive; pardon me, I 
don’t mean any offense.” 

“And I will take none,” Sir Alfred answered, as 
his face settled into its habitual calm. “When had 
we better start on this wild goose chase?” 

“You may call it a wild goose chase if you want 
to, but I assure you that I intend to have a whole 
lot of fun out of it. You see, the fair daughters of 
America will fairly swarm around; all we will have 
to do will be to open our arms and we can have our 
choice from dozens of them. So be consoled; there’s 
no need of coming back without an heiress even if 
chance shouldn’t favor you in time to win the bet.” 

Sir Alfred frowned and looked away. Somehow 
he disliked hearing the truth in such plain language. 

“But you didn’t say when we had better start.” 

“Next week, don’t you think? This is the tenth; 
we want to get back for the opening, don’t we?” 

“Just as you say, my lord. I don’t care much 
where I am when the season opens. I am getting so 
infernally tired of everything that I would like to go 
to sleep and sleep as long as old Rip did ; then a man 
might get through the remainder of his life tolerably 
well. ” 

“Sir Alfred, you should be more sensible. What 
has been can never be again ; we should live right 
along with the times; this is a progressive age ; I 
wouldn’t nii^s one year of my life now for any 


14 


A NEW WOMAN 


amount of money. We must take the world as it 
comes; it is certainly revolving faster now than it 
did one hundred years ago, and it may make the un- 
initiated a little dizzy, but you and I, who have been 
on the turf for forty years, ought to be making the 
most of every minute.” Here they came to the club 
rooms, entered and ordered breakfast — breakfast at 
fifteen minutes of midday! > 

“Hello; there is our friend Kirby. He looks com- 
pletely knocked up, and no wonder; the thing is get- 
ting very public. Poor fellow! I should sue fora 
divorce at once. Marriage is a failure anyway, but 
you and I are in for it; we have a name to per- 
petuate.” 

“Yes, my lord, I believe marriage is a failure.” 


CHAPTER III. 

Lord Gates was sitting at his desk, reading and 
writing letters. He is a busy man always, and just 
now is. particularly engaged in writing answers to a 
large pile of important letters. He is in no mood 
to be bothered. Sir Alfred, never busy himself, 
doesn’t understand this, and informally enters, seats 
himself by the desk and waits for his father to look 
up. He waits a long time, but his presence seems 
unnoted by his father, who writes steadily on. At 
last, recalling an engagement which he must shortly 
fulfill, he begins: 

“Father, I’ve made a d — d fool of myself.” Lord 


A NEW WOMAN 


15 


Gates kept right on writing, and finally, without 
raising his eyes, said : 

“Very likely; I’m not in the least surprised. A 
man who has nothing useful to do, must employ 
himself some other way. I hope you’ll be a success- 
ful one.” 

“Well, sir, it’s no joking matter. I’ve made a 
devilish big bet and one that will leave my finances 
at a mighty low ebb; I’ve got a fifty thousand pound 
bet on hand.” Lord Gates laid his pen down, pushed 
his chair back and sat looking at his son. 

“You see, I was drunk.” 

“It isn’t necessary to tell me that. You’ve been 
drunk before, but never quite so wild. How came 
you to get in for such a sum as that?” 

“Lord Avon was worse off than I. He bet fifty 
pounds and I asked why he didn’t wager a pair of 
cuffs. That nettled him and he raised it to fifty 
thousand, and I was just far enough gone to take it. ” 

“Why don’t you draw off?” 

“I offered to let him, but he took it almost as an 
insult, so of course I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, rather.” 

“Well, what the thunder was it about?” 

Sir Alfred cleared his throat, hemmed and hawed, 
blushed like a boy, and finally said: 

“Why, you see, we gDt to talking about American 
women, or heiresses rather; how easily they can be 
caught by Englishmen, and we drank and talked 
until he bet he could go over and be engaged to an 
heiress before I could.” 

Here Lord Gates began to rub his hands and 
chuckle in apparent glee. Sir Alfred looked on in 
wonder, which finally changed to amazement. “What 
is so funny?” he finally succeeded in articulating. 


16 


A NEW WOMAN 


‘‘Now, Alfred, my boy; I’ve got yon. Yon can’t 
afford to lose that money; yon’ll have to win it, 
don’t yon see? Yon’ll have to marry.” 

“I’m afraid I will, father, but I’ll be so rushed 
that I may not be al^le to get snch a wife as I conld 
wish.” 

“I don’t care a penny whether yon get snch a wife 
as yon conld wish or not. Haven’t yon been dally- 
ing around for fifteen years and I doing everything 
to help yon on? Didn’t I more than half i^ropose to 
Lady Mand Peckham for yon and then couldn’t get 
yon to do yonr part? Ten or fifteen years ago, I 
wanted to see yon happy with some nice, sweet girl, 
but now I don’t care what kind of a tartar yon get. 
Bnt yon must marry; the name must be perpetuated ; 
so yon or I must marry.” 

“I would much rather, father, that yon would.” 

“Of all strange men yon are the strangest. Yon 
seem never to have been young or to have had a 
single ambition. Yon might have attained eminence, 
even the premiership. What nnder the sun makes 
yon so indifferent?” 

“I despise this political web of onrs; I despise the 
methods that are nsed to gain power and prestige. I 
would scorn an office gained by intrigue. I’d rather 
be a drone than a knave.” 

“Yon are talking utter nonsense. The end justifies 
the means; a man should intrigue until he gets the 
position he wants, then he can throw off his mask, 
when, if he have a stout heart and a man’s courage, 
he can hold his place. The ignorant and vulgar are 
eternally howling about corruption in politics. There 


A NEW WOMAN 


17 


is no more corruption there than in business life, 
traffic and trade. That old cry is worn threadbare. 
We can’t revolutionize the world; we can only have 
a principle and stand by it.” Here Lord Gates 
brought his fist down with a crash. 

“Father, I am sorry that I have disappointed you 
so. I am not happy in my inactivity, but I don’t 
. want to win honors that I can’t glorify.” 

“Poorer men than you are occupying high posi- 
tions.” 

“Well, father, if I marry and raise up a family to 
the good old name, you will forgive me, won’t you?” 

“You must marry; you can’t afford to lose that 
money, and I won’t promise to help you. I haven’t 
any money to throwaway; but I hope, after all, that 
you will get a decent sort of a wife. I think I would 
look for a woman rather than an heiress.” 

“But she must be rich or the bet is lost.” 

“Well, try to find the two qualities combined; 
a woman with money.” 

“I’m in earnest, father; I really intend to make a 
faithful search for a wife.” 

“Search! Great heavens, you talk as if the world 
were not full of women; and for that matter a man 
need never leave England. But I must waste no 
more time; when do you sail?” 

“Next week, ” said Sir Alfred, as he left his father’s 
presence. 


18 


A NEW WOMAN 


CHAPTER IV. 

“My LORD, is everything ready? It’s devilish early 
but we must be stirring if we are to get olf, ’’ ^‘^ir 
Alfred said, upon entering his friend’s apartments. 

“Early! I should say so. Is the sun up, Adams?” 

“Yes, my lord; it has been up two hours.” 

“Here, I believe my tie is not on straight. Take 
that raveling off my leg — button my glove and hand 
me my cigar case. Everything ready?” 

“Yes, my lord, the luggage is at the pier and the 
carriage is waiting.” 

“Come, Sir Alfred, send your carriage home, and 
go with me. I don’t believe any one knows we are 
going and they needn’t find it out; we’ll just lounge 
around and not go aboard until the last minute.” 

“I hope I shan’t be seasick,” his lordship said, a 
faw moments later, as they stood on deck smoking. 
“I was, the last time I crossed, and I felt so mean 
for three or four days that I wasn’t fit for anything. 
It wouldn’t do to be laid up this time and give you 
the start of me. Mercy, look at the sun ; how high 
he is! I wonder when he rises. But it is so calm 
and fresh that I don’t feel sleepy and I didn’t get to 
bed very early last night either. Say, my friend, 
you’ve no idea how melancholy I’m feeling.” 

“Why, yes, I had noticed that you w^ere rather 
quiet and preoccupied.” 

“I think you’re a little sarcastic, old boy. The 
worse I feel, the more I talk, so I won’t have to 
think, don’t you see? But really I am in trouble,” 

“How?” 


A NEW WOMAN 


19 


“Why, I went to see Cleonice last night, and really, 
the poor girl is perfectly distracted. I told her I was 
going to America and wanted to leave her a little 
cash, but no; she wouldn’t have any. Said she would 
• hire out — go on the stage — beg — starve, but not touch 
my money. She was morally certain I was going 
wife-hunting. Just think of it; a man can’t cross 
the water without having that dinned into his ears, 
both here and in America. Well, she wouldn’t take 
money, and she talked to me in a way that actually 
touched me.” 

“Pshaw! aren’t you a little too conscientious?” 

“I admit that I am. You see, I don’t know 
whether I ever promised to marry her or not. I 
surely didn’t, but she swears that I did, and actually 
wanted me to do so — positively and truly she did. 
Think of it! Me, an Avon, with only a sickly boy 
between me and an earldom I She also reminded me 
that I had seduced her. Now, I suppose that is true, 
but I do know that if the devil coaxed me into hell, 
I wouldn’t admit to my God that I hadn’t gone will- 
ingly. Well, she just heaped a mountain of re- 
proaches on my head, and I couldn’t say a word. 
There’s too much fol-de-rol about women being 
betrayed. I think, sometimes, it’s the men who are 
seduced. Well, the whole thing is a horrible bore. 
The woman has lots of jewelry and all the furniture, 
which I suppose she will sell when she has to; so I’m 
not going to worry about it any longer.” 


20 


A NEW WOMAN 


CHAPTER V. 

Sir Alfred was sauntering about the deck, think- 
ing in a dreamy sort of way, what this trip might 
mean to him. Would he marry, and if so, would 
he be happy? Would he love? Would he find his 
ideal? 

Sir Alfred Gates had had an ideal at one time in 
his life, but now he scarcely ever thought of her; 
never, except when the thought of marriage was 
forced upon him. To-day his mind reverted tu the 
fantasy of his youth. She must be beautiful, yet 
wholly unconscious of that beauty; brilliant, yet 
innocent of being so; she must be all virtue, all 
truth, all love, all tenderness, perfectly happy in 
the love and home he would so gladly give her, and 
she must have no desire, no ambition for an3Thing 
else — such a woman as it would surely be impossible 
to find, since Psyche first mirrored her pretty face 
in the water, or Eve felt the yearning to move in a 
larger sphere. But we hug a delusion until we find 
a reality more pleasing. 

And his lordship was thinking, too; wondering 
when he would return to his native land, covered 
all over with glory and Uncle Sam’s dollars. 

* % ^ % if: 

‘‘Land in sight! Land in sight!” some one yells, 
and theory, “Home again, home again, to America!” 
arises. The great ship draws nearer, the towers of 
the city are plainly seen, the usual throng awaits on ' 


A NEW Woman 


21 


shore, but not the same — never the same. The gang 
plank slides in place and the home-comers are soon 
lost among those waiting to receive them. But there 
was no reception for our Englishmen, and Lord 
Avon, drawing his friend aside, said: 

“Now, Sir Alfred, hadn’t we better part here and 
each take his own way, or how?” 

“Why, yes, I suppose it would be as well; I don’t 
know whether I will stay in New York or seek some 
of the more rural districts. But how shall we com- 
municate? A letter’s too slow and a telegram is too 
public.” 

“We’ll have to telegraph.” 

“Yes; but the minute your charmer says ‘yes,’ 
must you rush pell-mell from her presence to send 
the news?” 

“Guess so. The end justifies the means. But say, 
let’s make the provision that the money be not paid 
until the engagement ends in marriage.” His lord- 
ship was feeling a little guilty because of his advantage 
over his friend, who was unacquainted with the coun- 
try and the people, while he was able to pursue defi- 
nite plans. 

“You know there was no provision made either 
way,” he continued. 

“Why, if you wish it so.” 

“I thought it might make it a little easier for the 
unfortunate one to give him a little time. Where 

will you be? You can wire me at S . I will make 

arrangements to get information there.” 

“I will be at the U for the present, and will 

notify you if I change location.” 


A NEW WOAfAN 


22 


So they separated. We will first follow Sir Alfred. 
He takes the train for a suburban locality, puts up 
at an exclusive hotel, adorns himself with a suit of 
a gayer sort than usual with him and goes forth in 
a mood half comic, half desperate, “to conquer or 
to fall.” 

It is seven o’clock in the evening. The most pop- 
ular park in^^tbe place is beginning to show signs of 
life. There is to be some kind of an entertainment 
and the crowd is arriving early enough for a prome- 
nade before the music begins. Sir Alfred is walking 
leisurely around, looking out fora possible acquaint- 
ance, and the probable heiress, with all the qualities 
of his ideal. “Why won’t this lady do?” and he 
stands and looks at a blonde head that is evidently 
unconscious of being scrutinized. What blonde hair, 
what a fair skin, such a pretty neck, and so ex- 
quisitely dressed! She must be rich and she certainly 
is young. He wonders how he can make her ac- 
quaintance in a careless way, and longs for her to 
drop her handkerchief or fan. But nothing offering 
itself, he decides upon a bold strike, and making his 
way to where she is sitting, says in his most winning 
way: 

“Pardon me, madam, but haven’t we met before?” 

Madam looked at him frigidly and remarked that 
she didn’t recall meeting him, and inquired his 
name. 

“My name is Gates; my home is in England. I 
can’t say where I’ve had the pleasure of meeting 
you, unless in London,” he stammered. 

“’Pon my word, is this Sir Alfred Gates? Ah, 


A NEW WOMAN 23 

don’t you remember me; my name is Snib? Met 
you in London several years ago. This is my wife, 
Sir Alfred Gates,” and Mr. Snib, the millionaire 
brewer, who had at that moment joined them, 
mopped his face and looked very proud of Mrs. 
Snib, number three. 

Sir Alfred shook hands with the little woman and 
at the same time gave her a scrutinizing look. He 
hadn’t noticed before that the fair skin was due to 
powder, but now he saw it, and also that the hair 
had been blondined. It flashed upon him suddenly 
that she was not pretty, only neat and stylish. 

“I’m not sure that I remember you, for you know, 
so many Americans visit London, and yet I fancied 
I had seen your wife; perhaps that was the time.” 

“Oh, no. Sir Alfred; we were not married then,” 
she said, shyly dropping her eyes, her coldness sud- 
denly changing to coquetry. “How long are you 
going to be in America, and in town?” 

“I hardly know.” 

“You will come to see us while you are here, won’t 
you? Come to-morrow ; we will send the carriage 
for you; you must come.” 

“Cora, this is Sir Alfred Gates, of London; this 
is my niece. Miss Dare, Sir Alfred,” spoke Snib, as 
a young woman joined them. 

Mrs. Snib continued: “You are going to stay for 
the music, of course; we are going to have a fine 
entertainment— first-class talent from somewhere, I 
can’t think where. Ah, there is the music, now. 
Come with us, there are plenty of seats yet.” 

So our Englishman found himself a moment later 


24 


A NEW WOMAN 


sitting by Mrs. Siiib’s niece, but he was sure as he 
compared the two that Miss Dare was the more at- 
tractive; that her jiretty flaxen hair had not been 
blondined and that there was not a vestige of powd(‘r 
on her face. How small, fair and sweet she looked, 
sitting there by him and how anxiously he waited 
for Cupid’s little dart to get in its work on him! 

Cora Dare was visiting her aunt, and expecting to 
make her debut as soon as the season opened. She 
was eighteen years old, fair and gentle and “accom- 
plished,” and was really quite charming. She cher- 
ished but one ambition, and that was to obtain a 
titled husband: — 

“ Eiiglisli, Irish, French or Spanish, 

German, Italian, Dutch or Danish.” 

Sir Alfred, ignorant of this, anxiously improved 
every moment. He had no time for an extended 
courtship. 

“I may come, may I not?” he said when the con- 
cert was over,and she bashfully replied, “Yes, I don’t 
mind. ” 

“I’ll accept your kind invitation,” Sir Alfred said 
to IMrs. Snib as he helped Miss Dare into the car- 
riage. 

Now he must ascertain her financial status. But 
here; doesn’t he recognize this young fellow? Y('s, 
surely this is Adolphus Snib, and so it proved; the 
next moment they were walking together, talking. 

“I have just met your mother — or rather your 
father’s wife.” 

“Yes, my step-step-mother, my father’s third 
wife. I don’t believe in mixing one’s relationships 


A NEW WOMAN 


25 


in such a way; besideSja man of his age has no busi- 
ness to marry such a young woman, when he has 
children of his own.’’ 

“Why, your father isn^t such an old man; I don’t 
believe him to be ten years older than myself.” 

“Well, you’re no spring chicken, Sir Alfred.” 

“Now, Snib, don’t try to get any of your Ameri- 
canisms off on me,” Sir Alfred said jocularly, trying 
to establish a familiarity that would warrant the ques- 
tions he wished to ask concerning Miss Dare. 

“That Miss Dare, too — a charming girl ! Let me 
see — where is she from? I believe she told me, but 
I have forgotten.” 

“San Francisco.” 

“Yes, yes; that’s it. Her father has an interest 
in coal mines?” 

“Miss Dare doesn’t happen to have a father; he 
died five years ago,” replied young Snib, eying his 
companion suspiciously. 

“Oh, then I made a mistake, but I thought she 
spoke of coal mines.” 

“I will have to leave you here. Sir Alfred. I have 
an engagement. Here is my card; call and see me. 

I’ve rooms at the L ; good-evening.” And he 

was gone, leaving Sir Alfred in a “confusion-worse- 
confounded” state of mind. 


A NEW woman 


26 


CHAPTER VI. 

“Another caller, sir.” 

Our congressman took the card, stared at it a mo- 
ment and said, “Show him in, Sam,” and the next 
moment he and Lord Avon were shaking hands and 
expressing unbounded pleasure at seeing each other. 

“Here, have this chair. Mercy! how hot it is,and 
you drove from town in this heat! Why didn’t you 
wait till evening? It always begins to cool off, about 
six o’clock. ” 

“Wait until evening! My dear friend, you’ve no 
idea what brought me here if you thought I might 
have waited until evening.” 

“Why, my lord, I flattered myself that you came 
to see me, but to tell the truth, I’m surprised. .1 
didn’t think you London boys ever lost yourselves so 
far out in the country.” 

“My dear Congressman Easton, I have been pin- 
ing away to get lost ouLhere, and had it not been for 
a misunderstanding, would have been here long ago.” 

“I don’t understand you. ” 

“Probably not, but I will explain. A year ago this 
summer, when you were in London, I met your 
daughter and was much impressed with her, but I 
understood from young Snib — you remember him, 
he was with your party — that she was to be married, 
and while he didn’t say it right out, I fancied that 
he was the happy man. But about ten days ago I saw 
a Saratoga paper, and looking it through,! ran across 


A JjfiW WOMAN 


27 


an account of your returning with 5"our son and 
daughter to your country seat, preparatory to your 
children starting away to school in September. I 
knew' then that it was a mistake about her approach- 
ing marriage and sailed on the very next ship, and 
here I am, to ask the hand of your daughter in mar- 
riage. ” 

“You say that Snib led you to believe that my 
daughter was to be married?” 

“Yes, in an indirect way. I hope I’m not too late, 
sir; I hope that his confounded chatter hasn’t ruined 
my happiness?” said his lordship in a tone of de- 
spair. 

“Oh, no; but excuse me if I question you a little. 
You think Snib wanted a chance?” 

“Yes.” 

“And could you see that she showed him any pref- 
erence?” 

His lordship w^as becoming bewildered; he couldn’t 
see the point, though he knew there was one to all 
this parley, and decided to take a neutral position. 
The truth was, our congressman didn’t w'ant his 
daughter to marry the Englishman, but any one w'as 
preferable to Snibs. 

“I’m sure I can’t say, sir; I was too knocked up 
to notice anything, though I fancied she did prefer 
him; but that might have been a trick of the imag- 
ination. I hope, sir, that .1 have your consent to 
address your daughter?” 

“Well, I will go and send her to you and it will 
be as she says, but she must go to school another 
year; even then she wdll be young to marry.” 


28 


A NEW WOMAN 


“0, don’t dificourage me by such a provision as 
that, but of course I will abide by your wishes, ” and 
then followed a murmur about “blessed privilege,” 
“sacred promise,” and so forth. 

A few moments later sweet, bashful Agnes Easton 
came into the presence of Lord Avon. She had no 
idea whether she wished to marry him .or any one 
else, yet when she went back to her room she wore 
a betrothal ring, and a few minutes later his lord- 
ship managed to send a telegram which read: 

“I’m the most fortunate man on earth. Congratu- 
late me.” 


CHAPTER VII. 

Mrs. Snib couldn’t contain herself. “I do hope, 
Nannie, ” she said to a servant, “that everything 
will go off smooth without any clashing or any mis- 
takes. ” 

“I think everything ’ull be all right,” Nannie re- 
plied, “but what is the man’s name who is to be 
here?” 

“Sir Alfred Danville — or was it Damson — oh, any- 
way he’s an English nobleman.” 

“What business does he follow?” 

“Oh, dear, he doesn’t do anything; he’s a man of 
leisure, a titled man.” 

“But sometimes gentlemen work, you know. Mr. 
Snib, for instance, ” Nannie persisted, but keeping 
her face turned from Mrs. Snib. 

“Oh, well, things are so different here from what 


A NEW WOMAN 


29 


they are in England; you can tell a gentleman there 
without asking any questions, but here — oh, clear 
me — I’d so much rather live there,” and with this 
Mrs. Snib betook herself to the parlor. 

“Do, Auntie; let’s put Venus in some corner,” 
Cora said, turning from the piano. 

“Why, dear?” 

“Oh, she does look so naked.” 

“That is very artistic, dear, and you should culti- 
vate a taste for such. I don’t think it looks so bad 
for her to be naked as to have only one arm. She’s 
a deformed looking thing, but then it’s artistic. 
What had we better do this evening to pass the 
time?” 

“Maybe he plays high five or whist?” 

“Oh, I expect he plays baccarat; I do wish we 
knew how. ” 

“But isn’t that gambling. Auntie?” 

“It don’t make any difference if it is. It’s all 
the rage in London, anyway, and I would give any- 
thing to know how to play it.” 

At the appointed time. Sir Alfred presented himself 
at the Snibs’ residence. He was met by Mrs. Snib, 
who was profusely dressed and mannered, and hailed 
by Snib familiarly. His heart sank, but when Cora 
in white silk and pearls entered the room his misgiv- 
ings vanished. He greeted her warmly and decided 
to settle matters at the first opportunity. Finding 
it difficult to keep the tortured conversation going, 
Cora was asked and entreated to favor them with 
some music. She consented bashfully and shied 
quickly past Venus as she took lier place at the piano. 


30 


A NEW WOMAN 


Now, this piano was a gorgeous affair, made of the 
finest woods of some half-dozen different shades, and 
the polished surfaces were adorned with pictures by- 
great artists. It had cost an immense amount of 
money and the Snibs were justly proud of it. 

“What an elegant piece of workmanship!” Sir 
Alfred said while Cora sang. 

“Yes, we had the work done in the old country. 
Cora will have it when she marries.” 

“Your gift to her — or is it from her father?” 

“Oh, from us. Her father died while she was at 
school before he knew of her great musical ability. 
He would have gotten it for her, no doubt, for he was 
very rich,” Snib remarked. 

“She will make her debut here in a few weeks, 
just as soon as she comes of age,” Mrs. Snib said in 
a half whisper. “I do hope you will be here then.” 

While this was just what Sir Alfred wanted to 
know, it almost sickened him to have it so unreserv- 
edly proclaimed and he rather abruptly asked: 

“Do you like the old country?” 

“Yes, indeed. I’ve always wanted to go there. I 
would really like to go there to live.” 

“You certainly show excellent judgment, Mrs. 
Snib.” 

“Society is so different.” 

“How?” 

“Oh, every way; but in one way especially; peo- 
ple are not taken into society so indiscriminately as 
they are here ; everybody knows his place and keeps 
it. And England has had so many great men — like 
Lord Lytton and Sir Charles Dickens.” Sir Alfred’s 


A NEW WOMAN 


81 


gravity was taxed and he was heartily glad to hear 
Mrs. Snib begin to talk of the song Cora had just 
finished. “Do you like that song, Sir Alfred?” 

“Yes, it’s the first time I’ve heard it; it’s very 
pretty.” 

“Never heard ‘After the Ball?’ Why, it’s been 
the rage all summer. But don’t you know there are 
some people who make fun of it. I think it’s lovely, 
such pure, sweet sentiment, and it’s so true. Just 
ask Mr. Snib how he likes baching.” 

“Please don’t remind me of my bachelorhood, 
Mrs. Snib,” said Sir. Alfred, and turning to Mr. 
Snib, he said something half in fun, half in earnest, 
about the unmarried man. 

“Oh, yes, indeed. I tell you there’s nothing like 
having a wife to — to — look — er — that is to look — to 
be looked after,” Snib stammered. 

Here they all laughed and Snib left the room for 
something. Mrs. Snib, wanting to leave Sir Alfred 
and Cora alone, excused herself and withdrew, but 
she returned almost immediately with a very signif- 
icant looking envelope, which she handed to Sir 
Alfred. 

“I hope there is no bad news, ” Mrs. Snib ventured 
when he had cast his eyes over the message. He 
looked from Mrs. Snib to Cora, and scarcely repressed 
a sigh of relief. He’d lost the bet and d — d if he 
cared; now he’d not marry until he chose. 

“Not exactly bad news, but business will necessi- 
tate my immediate return to England, ” he exclaimed. 

“Oh, that’s too bad, we’re so sorry,” the women 
exclaimed, while Snib enquired if the matter couldn’t 


32 


A NEW WOMAN 


be fixed up without his going back. When he de- 
parted he left two very much disappointed females 
and Snib quite upset. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Two days later our congressman was seated in his 
library employed in smoking and sweating, when 
the family carriage drove up and a young man of 
about twenty-one years of age sprang out, came up 
the marble walk witli a quick, elastic step, and directly 
into our congressman’s presence, with a very-mucli- 
at-home air. 

“Hello, my son,” the father said — for such was 
the relationship, “did you have a good time?” ex- 
tending his left hand — he was holding his cigar with 
his right — and pushing him a chair with his foot. 

Joe Easton touched the extended hand coldly and 
stood staring at his illustrious parent with a very dis- 
gusted look upon his bright, boyish face. 

“Well, now, what’s the matter with you? Why 
don’t you sit down?” 

“What’s the matter with you, I should like to 
know?” 

“Now, Joe, just sit down and tell me what you’re 
driving at.” 

“Harris tells me that Agnesis going to marry that 
Englishman, Lord Avon, with your consent.” 

“And how does that concern you, if she is?” 

“Why, I’m in the family, and it does concern me 
— and yourself — -vitally. ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


83 


‘‘How? I thought you aud he were great friends, 
last year in London.” 

“I haven’t anything special against him; he’s jolly 
and a good fellow to be around with; but he’s a 
titled Englishman and you ought to know their 
trade.” 

“Well, I don’t. Maybe you will enlighten me.” 

“Fishing for suckers like you and Agnes.” 

“Look here, Joe, you’ve gone far enough. I won’t 
have any more of your impertinence; if you’ve any- 
thing to say, say it.” 

“Why, he has the honors of a broken down family 
to support, and he’s struck America for a rich wife. 
He’s broke and has come here to make a stake.” 

“Oh, pshaw! I believe the fellow is all right.” 

“Well, I know what I’m talking about. I know 
that he’s gambled half a dozen fortunes away.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Why, Adolphus Snib knows it to be a fact. He’s 
been to London five or six times, is pretty well ac- 
quainted there, goes into society and knows a thing 
or two.” 

“I should say he does know a thing or two; he’s 
the fastest young devil in Washington, and I wish 
you’d keep away from him; but the Englishman I 
believe is all right. I’ve seen him in a few quiet 
games of draw, seen him both win and lose, and I’ll 
swear it did me good to see him hand over the money 
when he lost, jovial as could be. Some great man 
has said, ‘If you are a beggar spend your last dollar 
lik(3 a prince,’ and he would fork over his last with 
as much spirit as if taking some other man’s. There’s 


84 


A NEW WOMAN 


something in that. I despise a man who will cringe 
and cower before anything.” 

“Of course he lives like a prince and plays the per- 
fection of recklessness, if that’s all that’s necessary,” 
Joe returned contemptuously. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way; I was just saying 
I admired his spirit. But I can’t understand why 
this man who is thought to be so wealthy should 
come over here to marry for money. There are plenty 
of rich women in England.” 

“There is just where you’re off. There are very 
few wealthy women among the aristocracy. The 
money goes with the title and the title goes to the 
oldest son or the nearest male relative and the wom- 
en have only annuities, while American girls share 
equally with their brothers. Why, it shows on the 
face of the thing that he had an object, or why should 
he rush over here without the least warning?” 

“Well, I don’t know, Joe; there may be something 
in what you say, and yet I can’t believe it. I will 
go and see this young Snib, though I’ve no confi- 
dence in him ; he’s too much like his father. But I 
don’t care for Snib’s lies; he can’t hurt me now; his 
brother will never get the nomination again — I wish 
he would, rather than the man they are going to run. 
’Twas Snib’s money that pulled his brother through 
the last convention.” 

“Yes, and you’ll need all you’ve got before you 
get through this campaign, and that’s what made me 
anxious about this affair with the Englishman. By 
the time you have paid off a few of his bets you’ll 
not have enough left to elect you justice of the peace. ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


85 


“Well, Joe, you see I’ve given my word and I don’t 
know what we can do about it. I thought it would 
be very easy for her to do worse. What can we do? 
I wish you would find out how Agnes feels — slyly, 
of course. ” Our congressman was now thoroughly 
aroused. He had represented his district for ten 
years, but his last election had been pretty close and 
it was costing more every time. He had always been 
alittlesuspiciousof English titles, but when brought 
face to face with the bearer of one and it seemed so 
like an ordinary human being, his doubts fell asleep 
and our great, wise, shrewd congressman was taken 
in. 

“I think I would run the risk of her doing worse,” 
Joe said as he picked up his hat to leave. 

“I can depend on you, Joe, if necessary?” 

“Certainly. ” 

“And you will find how Agnes feels and report?” 

“Yes.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

When he went in search of Agnes he found her 
practicing. (Why will women always practice and 
never play? ) 

“Hello, Aggie, strumming away with the patience 
of an angel I Don’t you ever get tired?” 

“Oh, Joe, you’ve come at last! I’ve been so lone- 
some and blue. Aunt Kate has been keeping me on 
a diet of oatmeal and scalded milk. I’ll be glad if 


36 


A NEW WOMAN 


the time ever comes when I can eat what I choose 
and when I choose. Did you get many fish?” 

“You shouldn’t be blue; you’ve had company, I’ve 
heard. Yes, I got a few fish, but none so large prob- 
ably as the one you caught.” 

“I suppose you have heard that Lord Avon has 
been here?” Agnes said timidly. 

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard that long ago. Does his lord- 
ship perfume himself as copiously as he used to? Is 
his mustache as handsome? Of course he is just as 
fond of it as ever. Kemarkably fine fellow, isn’t 
he?” 

“Yes, I suppose so; I didn’t take particular no- 
tice.” 

“You had the best chance in the world, it seems.” 

“Well, I don’t know anything about it, anyway. 
But what a cold you’ve caught sleeping in the tent.” 

“Oh, come off, you can’t fake any longer,” Joe 
said, drawing in his feelers and making a straight 
plunge. ' “You are going to marry that fellow?” 

“Yes,” Agnes answered, and began playing and 
singing: 

“ Just as I am wdthout one plea.” 

“And just as he is, I suppose, debts and all,” said 
Joe. 

Agnes made no reply and Joe’s anger began to 
get the better of his tact. “It would be a monster 
speculation for some one to have a shipload of titles 
imported; the market would be bulled in twenty- 
four hours.” 

“It’s none of your affairs anyway,” said Agnes. 
“I’m not particular whom I marry. I’d just as soon 


A NEW WOMAN 


37 


live in England as in America; women can’t vote 
here any more than they can there, nor hold office.” 

“Of course not,” retorted Joe. “She’s not capa- 
ble of wielding the ballot or holding office. She would 
hop up out of the Senate and rush off to England the 
first time a curly headed milksop, like Lord Avon, 
came over here and said, ‘Come to my arms.’” 

“Now you just shut up, Joe Easton. I’ll tell papa 
on you. It’s a pity you can’t refrain from teasing 
me when you’ve been away for three weeks and I’ve 
been at home on oatmeal and scalded milk.” 

“It’s a little tough on you, I know, but I wouldn’t 
submit to oatmeal and milk; and I wouldn’t have 
obliged the Englishman when it hasn’t been three 
years since a nice fellow like George Sanderson was 
sent about his business.” 

“But we were both so young, and besides, he 
drank.” 

“Well, pardon me if I say that you were as large 
then as now and had better sense. Drank, did he? 
Well, about the first time your Englishman comes 
home on a lordly drunk, you’ll think a plain Amer- 
ican jag isn’t a comparison. And George doesn’t 
drink now.” 

t^How do you know?” Agnes asked quickly. 

“Well, I do know,” Joe said, as he lighted a cigar 
and began to puff away in the most provoking man- 
ner. 

“Let’s sing a song, Joe.” 

“All right. What shall it be?” 

“‘After the Ball?’” 

“‘After the Balll’ No, something with a little 
sense. ‘Over the Garden Wall’ is pretty.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Well, I should like to know which is the softer 
if you are going to compare them,” Agnes said de- 
cidedly. 

“That's the truth, Agnes, but ‘Over the Garden 
Wall’ has a pretty tune. That reminds me of a 
little poem I read a few days ago. I cut it out; here 
it is; I’ll read it to you. 

THE QUARTETTE ANTHEM. 

“ O, yes, I heerd the anthem sung by thet big church 
quartette; 

My wife she raved about it, but 1 kep’ my own mouth 
shet ; 

‘ No sweeter song,’ she said, ‘ is sung by angel lij) ;’ 

An’ I sot still and heerd her talk, an’ never raised a 

yip. 

“ The absence of ideas was dro'wned in plenteousness 
of voice. 

What strict economy of words, an’ extravagance of 
noise ! 

For they w^ere stingy of their words an’ generous of 
their strains, 

An’ they were spendthrifts of their lungs an’ misers 
of their brains. 

“ An’ they call this mighty music ; ’taint for me to say 
it’s not; 

But I think music’s better when it’s slightly mixed 
with thought; 

I think your lungs give forth a more inspirin’ strain 

If they first have made connection with the ingine of 
y.our brain.” 

“Good sound sense in that, Agnes. I tell you I’ve 
no patience with this wordless, brainless music that 
public singers affect to-day. But you may stay and 
sing what you choose; I’m going out in the shade 


A NEW WOMAN 


89 


to go to sleep. Had a splendid time, but am about 
used up. Saw some old acquaintances, but no one 
you’d be interested in now, ” and with this Joe saun- 
tered away, leaving poor Agnes very much disturbed. 
She left the piano and went to the window, then 
back to the piano, and to the hall, where she stood 
watching the receding form of her brother, but feel- 
ing her loneliness insufferable, in a few minutes fol- 
lowed him. 

“Here, Joe, are some fine apples,” she said as she 
sat down on the grass close by the hammock that 
Joe was lounging in. 

“Yes, I believe I’ll have a couple.” 

“I wish I could have gone with you. Boys always 
have a better time than girls; the}^ can go everywhere 
and do every and anything.” 

“Well, you see girls ain’t built that way.” 

“Now,I’ll go right in the house, if you don’t hush 
talking so.” 

“Well, go; I’m not dying for your society.” 

“Oh, Joe; and I’m going away to school day after 
to-morrow. ” 

“So soon, Agnes?’’ and Joe sat straight up. 

“Yes, school opens on the seventh, and this is the 
fifth.” 

“I don’t go for ten days yet, and I didn’t think of 
your going so soon. Talk away; I’ll answer.” 

“Well, who did you see when you were away? 
Frank Farley?” 

“No.” 

“Jaspar Godwin?” 

“No.” 


40 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Who then?” 

“George Sanderson, for one.” 

Agnes’ heart beat strangely, but she tried to dis- 
guise her interest. 

“He gave me his picture; would you like to see 
it?” 

“Yes, sometime when it won’t bother you too 
much. ” 

“All right, sometime then.” 

“Where does he live now?” 

“Wherever his hat’s off. He’s a temperance lec- 
turer.” 

“A temperance lecturer !” Agnes echoed. 

“Yes. After he left here he drifted around for 
a while, finally turning up at his uncle’s, who sent 
him away to be treated for inebriety and then to 
school for a couple of years. Then George entered 
the lecture field and has been lecturing ever since. 
He asked all about you; if you were married or had 
prospects of that sort. I wanted to bring him home 
with me and he wanted to come, but he had appoint- 
ments for the next three weeks and I told him that 
we would both leave for school inside of that time.” 

“Did you hear him lecture?” 

“No. He spoke the first night we were camping. 
We slept in the tent but took our meals at the hotel, 
and while I was eating breakfast the next morning 
he came in.” Joe watched Agnes as he talked, and 
fancied her remembrance of George boded ill for the 
Englishman. 

“Well, I must go in, Agnes. I haven’t unpacked 
my grip yet.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


41 


“Shan’t I help you?” she said, getting up as he 
did. 

“I don’t need you particularly;” and then as he 
looked into the pretty, childish face, so troubled and 
sweet, his heart smote him. 

“Yes, come along. Maybe you can help me; I 
think there are som,e buttons off that you might fix. ” 

Agnes didn’t wait for a second invitation, but 
grabbed hold of Joe’s natty coat and walked along 
by liis side. Upon reaching the room Joe unlocked 
a leathern grip and she began with trembling 
fingers to take out garment after garment. She saw 
no picture and wanted to ask about it, but couldn’t 
bring herself to do so. 

“Is this all, Joe?” she asked. “Where do you 
want the buttons?” 

“Here, on this coat — and here is the picture. ” He 
tossed it on the bed, and seeing how her face paled, 
in kindness turned away and busied himself at the 
wash stand. 

“Let me take the coat to my room, Joe; the light 
is better there than here,” and with a very sober 
face, Agnes sought her own room. 


CHAPTER X. 

The Young Ladies’ Seminary in the town of L 

is a large brick structure. A commodious hoarding 
hall stands at its left and both buildings are sur- 
rounded by a i^rettily arranged but somewhat limited 
campus. 


42 


A NEW WOMAN. 


It is the fourteenth of September. The little, cau- 
tious matron was engaged in some overseeing of serv- 
ants, when she was summoned to the reception 
room. Hastily smoothing her hair, ruffling her 
bangs and donning her professional countenance, she 
passed into the parlor. 

A tall girl in a jaunty traveling dress arose and came 
toward her. ‘‘My name is Helen Herman, ” the young 
woman said in an unabashed, natural way, “and I 
came to see about admission to the school.” 

“The school is full and the dormitory nearly so; 
we might make arrangements for one more. I see 
no reason why you should not be admitted to the 
school, supposing you to be of good character, of 
course.” Here the matron stopped as if she had 
asked a question and she really did expect some kind 
of assurance. 

“I guess my character is ordinarily good, ” the 
new-comer said with a half sarcastic smile. 

“What do you mean by ‘ordinarily good?’” the 
cautious little matron said, as she stepped back. 

“Why, that I am as good as the ordinary woman 
of to-day. I have i^lenty of money and consequently 
am not tempted to steal. I have always gone to 
school; have associated very little with men, so I 
suppose would not be considered fast.” 

“But have you no letter from your parents or 
guardian?” 

“My parents are dead. I never had a guardian 
except my nurse, who died about two years ago ; there 
are trustees who manage the estate; but T am my 
own architect; I make and execute my own laws.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


48 


“Have you any relatives? Are you utterly alone 
in the world?” 

“Yes.” 

“How sensible of you to come herel Most girls 
would have rushed off to a mixed school and placed 
themselves in imminent danger. So young and 
friendless and pretty, too, I think, if you had your 
veil off.” 

“I am in my twentieth year.” 

“Yes, very young, as I said.” 

“I admit that generally speaking it is young,” 
Helen said crisply. 

“I don’t quite understand.” 

“Well, no matter.” Helen turned away and looked 
at some blooming plants on a stand beside her. 

“I will go and see about a room for you. Nearly 
all of the rooms have two occupants. Miss Easton, 
a congressman’s daughter, has no one with her. Do 
you think that you would like to room with her; she 
is a very sweet, nice girl?” 

“Yes, anywhere.” 

“I will go at once. ” 

“But wait. There is a consideration that must be 
mentioned. I see by this catalogue that the students 
are not allowed to take lessons outside of the semi- 
nary. ” 

“That is one of the rules, but I can see no reason 
why any one should wish to do so. We furnish the 
best teachers in every branch — music, French, Ger- 
man, Italian, and everything that a finished lady re- 
quires.” 

“But voice training, reading, speaking and acting.” 

“We have a good elocutionist. ” 


44 


A NEW WOMAN 


“That won’t do. I mean some one who teaches act- 
ing — fits one for the stage.” 

“We have no instruction of that sort; we do not 
turn out actresses, but educate and finish girls for 
society.” 

“That is what T thought. But within a hundred 
miles of here there is a man who does such work, 
and I came here thinking that I could attend my 
books through the week and leave here on Friday 
afternoon at three o’clock, and get there in time to 
take a lesson that evening. Then I could easily take 
two more next day before the return train.” 

“I don’t think it will be permitted. However, if 
you desire, I will lay the proposition before the fac- 
ulty. ” 

“Do so, please, and say that if I am not accorded 
this privilege I will not remain.” 

The matron left the room for some moments, and 
returning, bade the new girl meet the faculty in the 
reception room immediately after dinner. 

Helen presented herself at the appointed time be- 
fore a staff that consisted of a dozen women of va- 
rious types and ages. She sat down in the nearest 
chair and waited to be questioned. With hat, veil 
and ulster removed, she presented a striking picture. 
She was tall, athletic; with a fine forehead, large 
expressive gray eyes, a straight nose and mouth, not 
of the rosebud sort, but indicative of a strong char- 
acter. Her complexion, too, was one that no amount 
of bicycle riding could render less delicate and bloom- 
ing. She was not pretty, nor yet beautiful, but she 
excited admiration. The monotony of life 


A NEW WOMAN 


45 


seemed broken when in the presence of this 
thoughtful, original girl; and it seemed impossible, 
ridiculous, to urge conformity on one so independ- 
ent and irrepressible. 

‘‘We understand. Miss Herman, that you are de- 
sirous of entering our school, but conditionally. 

You wish to be permitted to go to M for lessons 

in histrionism. ” 

“Yes.” 

“It is against the rules. ” The principal, a mas- 
culine looking woman, acted as spokesman, and as 
she said this she removed her glasses and looked in- 
tently at Helen. 

“Yes, I was so informed by the matron, but that 
is the only condition upon which I will enter this or 
any other school. I want to take the regular course, 
but I also expect to take training in my special line. ” 

“Is it your intention to choose the stage as your 
regular profession?” 

“I have already done so.” 

“From necessity or choice.” 

“From choice.” 

“I do not approve of your ambition, but — don’t 
you think you might be persuaded to abandon your 
intention?” 

“I am very sure that I cannot be persuaded to give 
up something I want — something there is no plausi- 
ble reason for giving up.” 

“How old are you?” 

“I’ll be twenty my next birthday.” Helen an- 
swered all questions respectfully, yet with an under- 
tone of quiet determination. The sharp-faced. 


46 


A NEW WOMAN 


masculine woman saw it useless to argue further, and 
for a moment was carried back to the days of her own 
youth, when she too had cherished ambitions. ‘‘Life 
has just so many storms, anyway,” she thought. 
“Why cramp the bud that is trying to open; why not 
let it blossom and rear its head if it will, just as 
we allow a quiet, modest one to droop and cling?” 
Then she spoke. “Well, Miss Herman, I have noth- 
ing further to say. I think if the faculty will 
express itself, we may come to an understanding. ” 
So saying, she turned to the long row; Lut nothing 
was offered. Miss Vance was their oracle, and things 
went as she said. 

“Has any one anything to say?” she asked. 

“I think if our principal agrees to the young lady’s 
proposition, we have no objections to offer,” some 
one in the row replied. 

So that was settled and the room question, too, 
and the new pupil was shown quarters with Agnes 
Easton, our congressman’s daughter. 

CHAPTER XL 

The matron escorted Helen to her room. “Miss 
Herman, this is your room-mate. Miss Easton,” and 
Helen, who gloried in health and spirits, saw before 
her, half reclining in a chair, the small, fragile form 
of Agnes, with her fair hair falling in soft masses 
about her sweet face, her head bound in a white 
cloth which she constantly wet from a bowl of ice- 
water. 

“Poor child, does your head still ache?” the ma- 


A NEW WOMAN 


47 


tron asked kindly, then turning to Helen said : “Miss 
Easton is subject to nervous headache and at such 
times cannot endure noise.” 

Now, to Helen, this fair girl, suffering with the 
headache, looked almost contemptible, and a smile 
indicative of this feeling unconsciously settled upon 
her face, which made the timid Agnes think her re- 
pulsive. 

“Certainly, I shall be as quiet as possible, since 
Miss Easton is kind enough to share her room with 
a stranger, but I am so strong and healthy myself 
that I haven’t much patience with people who are 
afflicted with headaches and hysterical attacks.” 

The matron stared at her in undisguised astonish- 
ment, too astounded to speak. Helen stepped into 
the hall, took hold of her large Saratoga trunk, and 
with scarcely' an effort dragged it into the room and 
proceeded to unstrap it. 

“We keep a man for such work, and I will send 
him up if you will wait a minute,” said the matron. 

“I am my own man,” Helen said, smiling, as she 
grasped the second strap firmly with her white, 
shapely, but strong hands and unbuckled it quickly. 
“But my wheel is at the station and I would like to 
have it brought, or be allowed to go for it. What 
hours do we have for recreation?” 

“We have forty minutes in the morning in the 
gymnasium and an hour after supper to walk or 
ride. You may go for your bicycle; a number of the 
girls have them and others are going to get them,” 
the matron replied and then left the room. 

Agnes sat watching this independent, and to her. 


48 


A NEW WOMAN 


almost miraculous young woman, unpacking her 
trunk, but no words were spoken. Helen was not so 
indifferent as she seemed, for occasionally she cast 
sly glances at the big chair and was secretly forming 
an estimate of its occupant, mentally soliloquizing. 

‘‘What does she read, what does she talk about? I 
wonder if she is bright and interesting or as soft and 
insipid as she looks — a figure-head at home, at 
school, and in society. I shan’t like her, I know; 
such a face is well enough on a girl baby, but not on 
a girl of seventeen or eighteen, especially in this day 
and age, when women are taking their stand shoulder 
to shoulder with men, mentally and physically; be- 
sides, she has nervous headache, and I can’t endure 
nervous people. Such as she, are of no consequence 
in this world, or the next either, for that matter.” 

And Agnes, though awestruck, was anything but 
pleased with the prospects of association with such a 
creature. But they were both women and young, and 
propinquity means more than affinity nine times out 
often; so they gradually grew friendly enough to 
talk, though in a cold, indifferent way. 


CHAPTER XII. 

One evening, a few weeks later, Helen and Agnes 
had entered, with more warmth than usual, into their 
conversation. 

“I tell you,” Helen said,“ that I have a supreme 
contempt for three-fourths of the women. I don’t 
say so before men, but I do believe it’s the truth that 


A NEW WOMAN 


49 


men have better sense than women. Women are 
always running after style, and the more disgusting 
it is, the better they like it. One season it is big 
hats and the next but the barest suggestion of head- 
gear; one year it’s voluminous sleeves and the next 
they’re tight as the skin. We drag our skirts in tlie 
mud, daub our faces, pencil our eyebrows, and color 
our lips. We say limb when we mean leg; we try to 
look indignant when a man has addressed us in an 
offensive manner. Bah! I despise the weakness 
of my sex. I despise the woman who brings suit for 
a breach of promise and admits she has been whee- 
dled out of hervirtue,as the world chooses to call it; 
but one thing sure, it is something she surrenders 
willingly and without question to the first invader.” 

“And I think we ought not to lay so much stress 
on these surface faults; we ought to look deeper for 
the spring that flows from the heart. These faults 
that you mention are only weaknesses of the human 
nature; it is only the poor blighted flower that tries 
to look as beautiful as its neighbor. It is natural 
for women to desire beauty, and it is right. We don’t 
like a careless, slatternly w'oman who pa3^s no atten- 
tion to her dress or hair, or any one who outrages all 
the laws of society and embarrasses everybody with 
her eccentricities. Why don’t you wear the old short- 
waisted, flowing-sleeve dresses; why don’t you let 
your hair hang down your back in curls and wear 
shaker bonnets?” 

“Why, such a dress would be neither pretty nor 
sensible. ” 

“Certainly not, nor does your fair face need pow- 


50 


A NEW WOMAN 


der, nor your hair the curling iron. And did it ever 
occur to you that you wear your hair in just the way 
it is most becoming, and that your dresses, a trifle 
short, display a neat arched foot and a well turned 
ankle?” 

‘‘Just exactly! you are no more charitable than I 
am. Because my dresses are short for convenience, 
you say it is to show a good foot; if I wore them 
long enough to sweep the ground you would say that 
I wanted to hide an ugly foot.” 

“No, I didn’t say that either; but, candidly, if 
you had big, ugly feet and awkward ankles, would, 
you wear your skirts so short?” 

Helen stammered and blushed at this good-natured 
but pointed question. 

“I am sure I don’t know, ” she finally said. “I 
don’t see why any woman should have ugly feet if 
she wears neat-fitting shoes, neither too large nor 
too small. I think women are running big shoes as 
much to the extreme as they ever did the small 
ones. ” 

“Well, Miss Herman, I know this: that we can 
see the mote in our neighbor’s eye when we can’t see 
the beam in our own. Don’t tell me that you are 
utterly indifferent to the beauty and brilliancy of 
your eyes, or the curl of that mobile lip — now, just 
now,” said Agnes, catching a hand mirror from the 
dresser and holding it up to Helen’s face, “nor of 
your hair that scorns the curling iron.” 

“But w'hy don’t women pay more attention to 
their mental faculties and depend more upon the im- 
pression made by the mind instead of that made by 
the dress and face?” 


A NEW WOMAN 


51 


“Why, there has never been a time when women 
read and thought and studied as they do to-day.” 

“I know that, and I know, too, that there has 
never been a time when women affected so much 
as they do to-day. We are not natural ; we only 
affect to be natural. We don’t laugh ; we only sim- 
per and giggle.” 

“And aren’t you disgusted with the woman whose 
laugh is loud and coarse, and who pitches her voice 
way up in G for common conversation?” 

“Isn’t that affectation; isn’t the loud, coarse laugh 
affected often?” 

“I think a loud voice is very natural with some 
people. ” 

“Not with well-bred people,” Helen said. 

“So then you admit that people need a little cult- 
ure?” 

“Oh, let up.” Helen saw that she w^as partly van- 
quished and her astonishment was unbounded; this 
shy, quiet girl had a few ideas, whether her face in- 
dicated it or not. “Of course. I suppose nearly all 
of us need training; but oughtn’t the pine grow 
straight without being propped. The bird flies 
straight without lessons; so should man or woman 
grow^ honorable, pure and noble wdthout training.” 

Agnes w'as trying to think of an answer, w'hen 
there w^as a knock at the door and a letter was handed 
in for her. She looked at the address and knew 
it w^as not from home; she looked at the postmark, 
that, too, was strange; and wondering who in the 
world it was from, opened it and read; 


52 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Ever Remembered Friend: — 

“I suspected that our correspondence was broken off 
by others than yourself, and Joe’s conversation ver- 
ified my belief. Of course he has told you something 
of our meeting and probably something of our talk 
and what I am now doing. Although 1 had but a 
short talk with him, I learned that you were still 
‘heart-whole and fancy free, ’ and I believe he would 
still be our friend and confidant. 

“Dear little Agnes, I have thought of nothing else 
these three weeks but a renewal of the relation we 
once sustained. We were young then and perhaps 
a little foolish, but our love was sincere; and I would 
give worlds to know myself still the object of your 
love. 

“I will be without appointments a few days next 
week and will take the liberty to come to see you, 
when I hope to be given, if not an assurance of your 
love, at least your consent to my winning it. 

“As ever. Geo. Sanderson.” 

While Agnes was reading, Helen was doing some 
troubled thinking. Was it true, as Agnes had said, 
that her indifference to personal beauty and attract- 
ive power w'as simply because she possessed such 
without thought or effort? Her very unconsciousness 
grew out of an inborn consciousness. She needed not 
to pick her words or guard her acts ; she could rush 
boldly in and conquer without a thought. She had 
been elected president of the girls’ society by a unan- 
imous vote and could dictate among the girls with- 
out question. “It’s magnetism,” she said to herself, 
“it’s magnetism; I always believed in magnetism. 
I always knew I could act in almost any society un- 
questioned. It’s not beauty, for Cleonice Dupont is 
better looking than I, and the girls don’t like her 


NEW WOMAN 


53 


iind she doesn’t like them, but she likes me.” Here 
she looked up, and seeing Agnes in tears, kindly left 
the room. 

She walked out on the broad stone walk and on, 
and on; she would go on walking anywhere to be 
ahjiie to think. Again and again she stopped in 
doubt and perplexity; she felt almost disgusted with 
herself. Could it be that she was selfish, careless of 
other people’s feelings? No, she knew better; she, 
with her high resolves and noble ideas; she was only 
schooling herself for a more useful position, a higher 
place than chairman of a girls’ society. 

The sun sank and still she strolled on with eyes 
staring far,far away,and mind and heart still farther 
away. This strange girl, who was only nineteen 
years old, but truly and honestly wanted to be thirty 
or more, not because she wanted to look old, or 
feel old, but that she might know more; she had 
crow'ded all the knowledge possible into her brief 
life and was still thirsting for more. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Helen had been in school about three weeks when 
it came her turn to conduct morning devotionals. 
She declined in a very quiet but determined manner 
Instantly every eye was upon her. Some looked 
placidly indifferent; others, shocked; poor Agnes 
embarrassed, but a dark, handsome girl across the 
aisle smiled her aj)proval. 


54 


A NEW woman 


The difficulty was overcome immediately by the 
next girl in the order of rotation being called. She 
responded promptly and prayed for those who were 
lukewarm, those who were timid and thoughtless, 
and those who were out of the fold. She made a 
very nice prayer; that is, she chose nice words; her 
tone was neither too loud nor too soft; she kept 
them kneeling just the proper length of time. All 
except Helen and Cleonice Dupont rose feeling sat- 
isfied with themselves, comforted by the knowledge 
that a Christian duty had been performed. The row 
of bowed heads disgusted Helen, and to think that 
she was conforming in even the matter of attitude 
made her feel herself the most contemptible of all. 

That evening Agnes embraced the very first op- 
portunity to ask Helen’s reason for her strange act. 

‘‘Why, I think it was said much better than I 
could have done.” 

“That is neither here nor there. All of the girls 
lead when their turn comes and it was your turn.” 

“Well, I don’t believe in praying by turns any 
more than I believe in bathing by turns; suppose I 
bathe to-day and you to-morrow and Cleonice the 
next day and so on.” 

“That is quite a different thing.” 

“But praying by turns and at stated times is quite 
as ridiculous to me. Pretty soon we’ll have nickel- 
in-the-slot prayers.” 

“I’m shocked.” 

“So am I,” Helen answered provokingly. 

“I mean, I am shocked at you.” 

“And I’m shocked at other people; the lack of sin- 


A NEW WOMAN 


55 


cerity in everything. Pray with the month, bow the 
knee as the clock ticks out the regular time for do- 
ing so. You can’t understand how I look upon it 
or how I feel toward such form and system in relig- 
ion. ” 

“But custom has made some things. 

“Custom hasn’t made me, thank heaven.” 

“But don’t you believe in prayer?” Agnes asked in 
despair. 

“Not those that are premeditated and seasoned to 
the taste, and then at the right moment allowed to 
glide slowly and prettily over the lips.” 

“Suppose some evening in the society, you told 
those, and only those who had prayer in their hearts, 
to kneel and pray quietly at their chairs, how many 
do you suppose would do so, even if some were in 
the mood to pray?” 

“None probably. ” 

“Then if people won’t pray when they do feel like 
it, is it worse to do so when they don’t feel like it 
than to abstain altogether?” 

“You forget that we can pray without kneeling; 
the Lord has commanded us to pray in our closets, 
that is, in secret, and not to sound a trumpet before 
us when we do alms, and a number of other things 
that we don’t care to heed.” 

“And He also said, ‘He that is without sin cast 
the first stone. ’ I think about people as the sculp- 
tor did about the piece of marble, that there was an 
angel in it. I think we all have our angel side, even 
you, Helen, who try to do everything unnaturally 
or in an odd way. You are the queerest girl, Miss 
Herman. What does make you so?” 


56 


A NEW WOMAN 


‘‘Well, you see I was ‘brought up by hand.’ I have 
been an orphan since I was a year old; I always had 
my own way, pretty much, both at home and at 
school. You see, you’ve been dieted and trained up 
while I, like Topsy, have ‘just growed’ ; consequently 
I am strong and healthy and spirited. I would just 
defy any man of my size to endure more than I. But 
you have a lame back and a head not much better.” 

“No, Miss Herman, there is just no use talking; 
you are naturally stronger. I woiTldn’t dare do such 
things as you do. Why, it would give me a fearful 
cold to sleep in a draught, and the way you get your 
feet wet would just kill me, I know it would. I have 
the headache an awful lot, oftener than I used to; 
I don’t think I’m as strong as I was once,” Agnes 
said wearily, taking a pillow from the bed and put- 
ting it behind her head. Then she opened a text- 
book and began studying. 

Helen stood watching her a moment and then 
turned and left the room. 

A few moments later she knocked at a door across 
the hall, which was immediately opened by Cleonice 
Dupont, a tall, handsome, but fierce looking woman. 
“Oh, Miss Herman, I am so glad to see you; my 
room-mate is calling and I am alone. I have been 
trying all day to get a chance to tell you how glad 
I am to see one girl anywhere who has the nerve to 
be independent; it does take nerve, I know. I 
couldn’t do what you did, but I just wanted to say 
‘amen’ when you said so politely, ‘I beg to be ex- 
cused.’ I liked you the moment I saw you; so mag- 
nificently indei)endent. I can guess your politics, I 
warrant. ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


57 


try.” 

“You are an anarchist.” 

‘‘Why, anarchists are not politicians. They argue 
with n^volver and dynamite instead of brains. No, 
I’m not an anarchist.” 

“W^ell, you are a Populist; that’s the next thing.” 
“Populist or Democrat, it’s all the same; they ad- 
vocate the same principles.” 

. “Well, Democrat, Populist or anarchist; I like you 
and always have since I have known you, and you 
have arisen greatly in my estimation since morning. 
We pray the good Lord to continue to bless us, when 
He never has blessed us, and thank Him for blessings 
we have never received ; thank Him because it has 
not been His pleasure to cast us into hell, as Holy 

Willy says.” ^ . 

Helen felt a little shocked at this woman s bitter 
denunciation of prayer and things sacred. 

“Well, Miss Dupont, I don’t agree with you, either. 
I do pray. It is this formal praying, this systematic 
way of worshiping God that I object to, for thereas- 
on that it seems sacrilegious to me. If we are in 
fvniiblp it isn’t necessary for us to be told to pray. 



fhA lurched and withering flowers manifest their 



“Then do you 
asked. 


58 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Yes, don’t you?” 

“Why, no, I can’t believe it; it is just one con- 
tradiction after another.” 

“Well, I’ve had to study it a good deal and do so 
yet; and lots of things that were impossible for me 
to understand at first, are clear to-day.” 

“Then how is it that they hold great revivals and 
try to convert people who know little or nothing 
about the Bible, little children, for instance, and 
fill up their churches with the ignorant as well as 
the wise?” 

“That has been a mystery to me always; but I 
have known people who have declared that their con- 
version had been instantaneous. It wasn’t so with 
me; I had to satisfy my reason first. I don’t know 
when I was converted, when it commenced and 
where it left off. I only know that five years ago I 
didn’t look upon things as I do now, and hadn’t the 
faith I now have. And I suppose I’ll grow stronger 
in faith as I grow older, at least, I hope so.” 

“Well, we are all accorded the privilege of believ- 
ing as we want to, or rather, as we must, for the will 
has nothing to do with it. I can’t make the Bible 
agree with me, and I can’t possibly agree with it, so 
I let it alone entirely. But we won’t quarrel over 
trivial matters. Let’s drink to good fellowship and 
mutual disagreement.” So saying, Cleonice went to 
the drawer and came back with a bottle of wine and 
two glasses. 

“You must excuse me, Miss Dupont, but I don’t 
drink wine.” 

“Whatl” 


A NEW WOMAN 


59 


“I don’t drink wine,” Helen repeated 

“You don’t? All rigliltlicn, I shall onl}^ have 
the more for myself,” Cleonice said good-naliiredly, 
and proceeded to empty a glass at one draught. “But 
I confess that I am surprised.” 

Helen frowned. “Why are you surprised?” 

“I can hardly explain, but from your looks and 
actions, I supposed that you had too much nerve to 
hesitate to do things that nice, moral people might con- 
demn; that is, I thought you were not afraid to do 
things that look questionable.” 

“Miss Dupont, you don’t understand me at all!” 
Helen said decidedly. “I might do things that look 
questionable, but I don’t do things that are ques- 
tionable. You don’t understand me.” 

“AYell, I’m beginning to. You are much better 
than you would have people believe. I can hardly 
understand, though, how you came to be elected pres- 
ident of the society. Anna Boyd hated to give it 
up and a dozen of the other girls wanted it. Some- 
how you seem to command in some indescribable 
way; you wanted to be elected and you were. The 
girls and even the faculty all admire you and listen 
to 3^011, and yet none of them are very fond of you. 
No girl ever throws her arm around you and whispers 
a secret to you; that isn’t the way you excite regard ; 
3^011 command respect rather than affection. AVhat 
a politician you would make if you were a man! 
Don’t you wish you were? And what a fine looking 
man you would make! your features are just a little 
too pronounced for a beautiful woman, as you would 
undoubtedly be called in society.” 


60 


A NEW WOMAN 


‘‘Why, it is supper time,” Helen said, looking at 
her watch. “I must go to m}^ room,” and as slie 
went she kept saying to herself, “Respect, rather 
than atfection; that is what I want, of course it is. 
I don’t want love. I wouldn’t be a success if people 
loved me; it would make me weak and I should fail. 
I must be admired for my unyielding principles and 
noble aspirations, not for any pretty frivolous ways. 
My beauty is masculine, thank heaven, it is!’’ and 
repeating “Spartacus to the Gladiators, ” she tripped 
lightly to her room, brushed her hair back from her 
fine forehead in a masculine fashion, and hurried 
down to supper. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

When it came Agnes’ turn to lead in morning ex- 
ercises, she selected a portion of the seventh chapter 
of Matthew. 

“‘Judge not that ye be not judged. 

“‘For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be 
judged: and with what measure ye mete it shall be 
measured to you again. 

“‘And why beh oldest thou the mote that is in thy 
brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is 
in thine own eye? 

“‘Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, “Let me 
pull out the mote out of thine eye;” and behold a 
beam is in thine own eye. 

“‘Thou hypocrite; first cast out the beam out of 


A NEW WOMAN 


61 


thine own eye; and then thou shalt see cieaiiy to 
cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.’” 

As they knelt, Cleonice cast a significant glance at 
Helen, but it was lost. Helen’s head had been bowed 
during the reading; the words, which in some way 
look on a new meaning under Agnes' reading, in- 
duced the same state of mind that her friend’s ques- 
tions frequently did. 

As they passed out Helen heard a wicked voice — 
“Now there is work for us; we must fish for the 
beams. Maybe that is what ailed me all my life 
and — ” Here Helen, with a dark frown, turned ab- 
ruptly into a class room. 

That evening upon returning from a walk, Helen 
found Agnes sitting with a book in her lap, gazing 
vacantly out of the window. 

“What are you reading?” she asked. 

“I have just finished ‘The Last of the Barons,’ by 
Lord Lytton.” 

“Sir Edward Jlulwer Lytton, you mean. There 
has been any quantity of Lord Lyttons, and several 
authors among them; but the series in the library 
are the works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. What 
a man he was, if he did happen to be an Englishman I 
Isn’t that perfectly splendid?” 

“Yes, I like it tolerably well. This is the first 
time I’ve read it and it’s the only .one of his that 
I’ve read. ” 

“It is? Why,I’ve read them all. I read that when 
I was only fifteen years old. I’ve read all of Scott’s, 
and all of Dickens’, and all of George Elliot’s and 
all of Thackeray’s, and all of Lew Wallace’s, up to 


62 


A NEW WWMAN 


date, and Hypatia— that’s all of Kingsley’s I’ve read.” 

Helen paused, quite out of breath. 

“Well, you’ve read everything. I don’t expect to 
read as much while I live as you have read already.” 

“No, I haven’t read one-tenth — um — one-hun- 
dredth as much as I expect to, only I wish I’d not 
read all of those wonderful works of fiction.” 

“Why?” 

“Because there’s nothing left of this wonderful 
line to read. Yes, we’ve still Lew Wallace, but what 
it takes him years to write, we can read in a few 
days.” 

“You’re a sort of Alexander.” 

“Oh, there’s plenty of literature of other kinds — 
history, philosophy and scientific works. But Sir 
Edward Bulwer Lytton was a historian, philosopher, 
and novelist combined; there’s more philosophy than 
romance in some of his works.” 

“And what do you think of this one?” 

“I think it his strongest, though I believe the crit- 
ics pronounce ‘What Will He Do With It?’ the 
best. ” 

“What character did you like best?” 

“I admired the Earl of Warwick most, but was 
more interested in old man Warner and Dick Al- 
wyn. ” 

“Why, I thought Lord Hastings was the hero.” 

“He was, of the romance. I liked him fora while, 
but I despised him in the end.” 

“Why?” asked Agnes with pretended indifference, 
still looking out of the window. 

“Why? Because he deceived Sybil. I didn’t 


A NEW WOMAN 


63 


avliiiire lier style, but he should have done as he 
promised, even if he did find another woman more 
to his fancy.” 

“It is wrong, then, to betray — ” 

“It is the meanest thing on earth. I wouldn’t 
betray the devil if he trusted me.” 

Agnes did not reply, but turned her face from 
Helen and sighed deeply. Just then some one rapped, 
and it proved to be the matron with a card for 
Agnes. “There is a young gentleman in the parlor 
to see you,” she said. “He says he is an old friend 
of your family— that he used to, work for your father. 
You know. Miss Easton, that the rules forbid a young 
lady from receiving visits from a young gentleman, 
unless they are engaged. Are you and — ” 

“No,” Agnes faltered, catching hold of the back 
of a chair for support. 

“He didn’t state in what capacity he served in 
your father’s household. Now, was he coachman?” 

“Oh, no, he was papa’s confidential — ” 

“You see we can’t be too careful. You say you’re 
not engaged?” Here Helen in half pity for the em- 
barrassed Agnes, disgusted with such inquisitorial 
proceedings, interposed: 

“Miss Scott, you are not exactly fair with Miss 
Easton. She is not engaged to the man at present, 
but you see she might be before she leaves him. You 
don’t prohibit the students from becoming engaged, 
do you?” 

“Oh, no, certainly, but we must be careful. You 
know engagements might be entered into which 
would not be agreeable to the parents. I would go 


.64 


A NEW WOMAN 


to the reception room with her, but I must go down- 
town at once. The bank closes in twenty minutes,” 
she said, looking at her watch. 

‘‘Why can’t I go with her?” Helen asked. 

“Well, that might do. Yes, go with her — but I 
can’t spare another minute.” 

“Wait,” Helen called after her as she was descend- 
ing the stairs, “I forgot, I have an appointment; 

I can’t go with her.” 

“Very well, she will have to — ” Helen missed hear- 
ing the last word, for the matron did not speak dis- 
tinctly, provoked at having to answer at all in such 
a place and on such a subject. 

“It’s all right. Miss Easton, ” Helen said, stepping., 
back into the room where Agnes was lying in a con- 
fused little heap among the pillows on the sofa. It 
was with some difficulty that Agnes made herself 
presentable, and ’twas a sorry, tear-stained face that 
greeted the hopeful, almost happy young lover. 
“What is it, Aggie? Wouldn’t they let you see me? 
Well, it needn’t be long until — ” Here Agnes broke 
into tears and tried to say something about her en- 
gagement; but her love, long slumbering, awoke and 
was too strong for concealment. Her lover gathered 
her in his arms and had poured forth a torrent of 
endearing terms, before she could find words to tell 
him that it must not be.' “But you love me, Aggie, 
don’t you?” he expostulated when she finally suc- 
ceeded in making him understand that somebody 
else, somewhere, had usurped his place. “Oh, George 
— but I mustn’t even listen to you now,” and gath- 
ering all her force, she bade him good-bye, 


A NEW WOMAN 


65 


CHAPTER XV. 

“How good of you to cornel” Cleonice Dupont said 
upon opening the door for Helen; “I am nearly al- 
ways alone; my room-mate clicpies with that stupid 
Miss Jones, and is with her every idle minute. What 
fools girls are I Each one has a bosom friend to wliom 
every secret must be told, and that bosom friend 
promptly repeats it to her chum and so on. I find 
it the best plan to keep one’s secrets to one’s self, 
don’t you?” 

“Every one to his taste, but I have no secrets that 
would interest any one.” 

“Let me see, I believe you do not drink, but I do, 
and I want some now. I always need a stimulant 
when I talk with you; you don’t talk nonsense like 
most of girls. Why, I could talk to my room-mate 
in my sleep and she wouldn’t know the difference. 
But why don’t you drink wine? Don’t you like the 
taste of it, or is it the effects you’re afraid of?” 

“It is because I believe in total abstinence. No 
one courts the effects and I don’t know anything 
about the taste.” 

“That’s all right for you, but you and I are very 
different women; you have something to live for and 
somebody, and I haven’t.” 

“Yes, I’ve something to live for, an object, as 
every one has, but I have no particular person or per- 
sons to live for.” 

“Why, haven’t you parents, brothers and sisters, 
somebody?” 


66 


A NEW WOMAN 


“No one. I’m an orphan without relatives; so you 
see, I have no more than you to make life worth liv- 
ing.” 

“Then why do you live?” 

“That’s a queer question. I never thought sane 
people raised the to-be-or-not-to-be question. I am 
sure all of my hopes and ambitions are of the sort to 
be realized hereupon earth. Why, I’ve never thought 
of not living, but I’ve thought a great deal about liv- 
ing. You see I’ve a mission to fulfill. ” 

“Oh, yes, I like to see a girl enthusiastic about her 
mission, provided she subsides in time to save her- 
self. ” 

“From what?” 

“Why, from folly,” Cleonice answered with a 
forced, mirthless laugh. 

“Miss Dupont, you don’t make yourself clear; I’m 
no wiser than I was.” 

“You may be innocent. Miss Herman, but you’re 
not ignorant. Folly in a woman means ruin.” 

“But why should — In what respects does it differ 
from man’s folly?” 

“If you don’t know, you’ll find out before your 
mission is fulfilled.” 

“But you don’t know what my mission is.” 

“Don’t I? Well, I think I do. Oh, you fancy 
yourself standing before ten thousand eyes, arrayed 
in the finest velvet and lace; blazing with jewels, and 
—oh, stuff!” 

Helen’s face turned scarlet under Cleonice’s gaze, 
but she tried to reply with indifference: “You guess 
pretty well, Miss Dupont; you arc a good guesser. ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


67 


“It’s no guess. Your face bespeaks your charac- 
ter; I could almost read your life.” 

“Do, please. I have always wanted to have my 
fortune told.” 

“I can’t do that, but I can tell you what nature 
has marked you for, if you wdll follow your reason 
and do nothing rash.” 

“Very well, that will do.” 

“You are proud to a fault, sensitive, passionate, 
putting your whole soul into everything you do, even 
your bicycle riding. You are impulsive and at the 
same time cautious; you look at all sides, but you 
do it instantly. You may love, and deeply, but not 
wholly. If you must surrender your ambitions it 
will be with reluctance, perhaps with bitterness. I 
couldn’t imagine you romping with a laughing child 
in a quiet, sheltered home, but I could well imagine 
you with a hundred little gaping mouths and eager 
countenances turned to you, as you in forcible, elo- 
quent language delivered an address upon the neces- 
sity of education, ethics or something equally idiotic 
and beyond their minds. You would scarcely be at 
ease caring for a sick person, but you might give or- 
ders to a score of nurses. You could never be ha]!- 
py in the love of one man, but you would be de- 
lighted, inspired by the honorable admiration of a 
thousand. But your room-mate, ‘sweet fool, ’ would 
be divinely happy in a little secluded home, with 
a lover for a husband, and curly-headed babes 
for heavenly torture; she would be content and 
true as steel. ” 

“Then you mean to insinuate that I would not be 
true?” 


68 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Never pick a person up, Miss Herman; never 
make him explain himself; just draw your own con- 
clusions in silence and stab back at the first oppor- 
tunity. ” 

“You startle me. You have drawn my character 
so truly, that I fancied you might see farther than 
I, and discover insincerity.” 

“You would be true to a purpose, but I shouldn’t 
want to answer for your acts if you renounced your 
liberty to think and do as you pleased, for the adora- 
tion of a husband and the four walls of home. You 
can cage a canary and it will love its captor, but 
when you cage a lioness, you must ever be on the 
watch lest in some unguarded moment she spring 
upon lier captor and devour him. Do you under- 
stand?” 

“Yes, too well. You have drawn a proud though 
terrible picture. So I must avoid matrimony if I 
would be happy and useful.” 

“Draw your own conclusions.” 

“And stab back?” 

“That is your privilege,” Cleonice said, laughing. 

“Well, thank you, but associating with you is 
likely to make me conceited. I must go. Come and 
see me sometime.” 

“Maybe, but I would rather you would come here, 
instead. Miss Martin is always gone as soon as study 
hours are over. I would just as soon go to your room, 
but I don’t think that little room-mate is much in 
love with me. She shies off from me as if she 
thought I would eat her. She needn’t be afraid; I 
wouldn’t hurt the precious little cotton-head.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


69 


“For shame, Miss Dupont! I think she is nice 
and good, although she doesn’t interest me.” 

“Well, we won’t quarrel. I think she is nice, too, 
but of small consequence.” 

Helen went to her room feeling her power to her 
very finger tips. After working off her surplus en- 
ergy on “Spartacus to the Gladiators” and “Marco 
Bozzaris” she thought to experiment with something 
of a sentimental sort, and tried to render Maud Mul- 
ler in what she thought the appropriate style, and 
was struggling with the expression of the lines: 

“ Of all sad words of tongue or pen 
The saddest are these: It might have been.” 

when Agnes with tear-stricken face entered the room. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

“We might be better friends,” Agnes was saying 
one cold winter evening as she and Helen sat in their 
cozy room. As time had gone by they had become 
better acquainted, but were no better friends than 
at first. “I might be different, and you might be 
different.” 

“I don’t dislike you. Miss Easton, at all, but we 
don’t interest each other. We don’t read the same 
books, talk on the same subjects nor admire the same 
things, consequently we don’t enjoy each other’s 
society — that’s all. ” 

“Miss Herman, I do like to hear you talk, only 
you seem so unsympathetic. You use good language; 


70 


A NEW WOMAN 


your extemporaneous speech last night was just splen- 
did, but while you are sympathetic to the generality, 
you are like ice to the individual.” 

“I have no sympathy for people’s selfishness.” 

“But you don’t know anything about my aims.” 

“Well, I know the ambition of all such girls as 
yourself. Nearly every woman centers all of her aims 
on some one man, whether he loves her or not. To 
get married is her one hope, and her mind holds 
nothing but her own little world. What has your 
love affair to do with the questions that are perplex- 
ing the world to-day; with the wide-spread home- 
lessness, want and misery? What interest do you 
feel in the doings of this Congress, which is expected 
to adopt measures that will bring about better times? 
Imagine yourself, Agnes, a laborer out of work, or 
employed at starvation wages. How much heed are 
you giving to the fact that thousands of mothers in 
our own country are haggard with anxiety, heart- 
broken at the future of their children?” 

Agnes shuddered and her blue eyes filled with tears. 
“Such things are terrible,! know ; and Heaven knows, 
I sympathize with the suffering and distress, but what 
can I do? I can only pray and I do pray.” 

“‘Prayer without works availeth nothing,’ ” Helen 
said. 

“If I can do anything, tell me what it is and I will 
willingly and gladly do it. I always give when I am 
solicited, and what more can I do; what more can 
you do?” 

“Tears do no good and prayers are but half. First 
we must keep posted on the condition of things ; we 


A NEW WOMAN 


71 


must read and investigate and think. If people had 
done this, things would be far different. Men vote 
blindly for certain men, whether those men are suffi- 
ciently intelligent and honest or not, and then seem 
to dismiss the subject of public welfare from their 
minds, while the women, as a rule, see no connection 
between their affairs and those of the nation, and 
’twould do them no good if they did. How' many of 
the girls, do you suppose, read of what is going on 
in Congress? Yet the question to-day is the poverty 
question, and certainly w’oman has quite as much at 
stake as man. We’ve got to think of these things. 
I can’t exactly explain the qualifications of the use- 
ful woman, but I know you must think of being use- 
ful and desire to be so; above all things disdain 
petty selfishness, and live so as to force an acknowl- 
edgment from every one that you are somebody and 
can do something.” 

“If I wanted advice upon any subject that required 
brain power, I would go to you, but I’d as soon think 
of pouring out my soul to the marble Venus in the 
hall as to think of opening my heart to you.” 

“If you were troubled about something connected 
with anything high and noble, you could, indeed, 
depend upon me; but if it were about some trivial 
personal affair, you might as well — I’d rather you’d 
go to Venus. ” 

“Well, we won’t talk about it any more; my head 
aches so.” 

“I’m not surprised; this room is stifling, I’m be- 
ginning to feel languid and sleepy myself. I think I 
shall go and see Miss Dupont; she always stirs me 


72 


A NEW WOMAN 


Up. By the way, has she ever been to school be- 
fore?” 

“No. You are such friends; I should think you 
would have learned that from her.” 

“Well, I have never asked her; there are some 
people, who, for some reason, one doesn’t care to 
question. How handsome she is and what a magnif- 
icent form.” 

“Yes.” 

“I wonder if she is an American; she seems to 
have a slight accent. Did you ever notice it?” 

“Yes, her speech does seem a little peculiar, but 
I never thought of it before.” 

“I think. Miss Easton, that if you would wrap a 
shawl about your shoulders, open that window and 
sit for half an hour with your head out you’d feel 
better. I would get over the habit of having head- 
aches if I were you. The time is fast approaching 
when a woman will be as ashamed to confess having 
a headache as she would now to having the itch. ” 

“Oh, you great goose 1 I think you are drawing 
on your imagination a little, ” Agnes said with rising 
temper. 

“Well, I’m not. The itch is a sure sign of filth, 
and the headache only arises from one of three 
causes.” 

“And what are they?” 

“First, and most common, is too tight clothing; 
second, an overloaded stomach ; third, nervousness. ” 

“You know I ate scarcely any dinner and no sup- 
X)er, and this Mother Hubbard is not sqeezing me to 
death.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


73 


“There is still another cause.” 

“I know I’m not nervous,” Agnes said, laughing, 
and then began to cry. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

“At last I” Cleonice said, as she opened the door 
for Helen. “I thought you would never come. Have 
you seen the evening paper?” 

“No. What is the matter?” 

“Only that another millionaire has reduced his 
employees’ wages and another strike is on tap.” 

“Awful, awful! Is there any distress among the 
families of the strikers?” 

“Not yet, of course, but there will be.” 

“Well, we’ve one consolation; there’s a hell yawn- 
ing for the wicked.” 

“Oh, mercy; if I thought of hell as some people 
do, I’d be miserable. You read the Bible so much, 
what is your idea of hell?” 

“Why, a just and reasonable punishment for sins, 
and I think it will be right here on earth after the 
resurrection. ” 

“Do you believe there will be a resurrection of the 
dead?” 

“Of course, and I think it is very near.” 

Cleonice looked startled. “What do you mean?” 
she asked. 

“Why, that the last days are at hand, the time 


74 


A NEW WOMAN 


Christ speaks of in the 24tli chapter of Matthew and 
again in the last chapter of James, where it says: 

“‘Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for the 
miseries that shall come upon you. 

“‘Your riches are corrupted and your garments 
are motheaten. 

“‘Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of 
them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat 
your flesh as it were fire. Ye have heaped treasures 
together for the last days. 

“‘Behold, the hire of the laborers, who have reaped 
down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, 
crieth: and the cries of them which have reaped 
are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth. ’ 

“Don’t you see? rich men were never so troubled 
about their gold as they are to-day, and never before 
in the history of the world have there been so many 
fabulously rich men ; they have heaped up treasure 
for the last days. And look how the laborer is de- 
frauded of his rights. There is another place in the 
Bible where it speaks of the great inventions that 
will multiply in the last days. Oh, the whole thing 
is plain to me; the world is six thousand years old 
and the seven thousand is the great Sabbath, the era 
of peace and rest.” 

“Who has put such ideas into your head?” 

“Nobody,” Helen said contemptuously. “It is in 
the Bible as plain as the commandments.” 

“Then how is it so few find it?” 

“Because so few want to find it. Preachers don’t 
want it. People don’t want to know that the time 
is near when we must deal honestly with our fellow 


A NEW WOMAN 


75 


men, when each must stand on his own merits. We 
refuse to think of it because it makes us uncomfort- 
able in our selfishness, and preachers don’t want to 
know it because it means a death blow to the church. 
The Catholic church tried to keep the Bible from 
the people because they knew that as soon as the 
people became educated the church would be dead, 
and it is just so to-day. Preachers are either igno- 
rant themselves or they want to keep the people 
down. Oh, there is such appalling ignorance in the 
church I If it were just of the quiet, meek sort it 
might be borne, but this kind that goes out and ped- 
dles itself is past all charity.” 

“You have given several reasons why the people 
do not want to know the truth, as you term your 
fantasy, but you omitted one — the most important 
one, too.” 

“What is it?” 

“Why, they probably realize that they are not 
ready for the coming of Christ.” 

“No, they are not ready and they don’t want to 
get ready. We are nearly all usurpers and we don’t 
want to give up our offices and high worldly positions 
for ‘The first shall be last, and the last shall be 
first.’” 

“Well, Miss Herman,! admire the sheep more that 
strays into forbidden pastures, but let me tell you 
that those that follow the bell are the happier. The 
common herd, after all, have the best time of it, 
whether they are wisest or not. Now, there is the 
calm, sweet Miss Easton, who kneels every Sunday , 
in her Presbyterian pew; she was born and will live 


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and die, and though she may be recorded in heaven, 
she scarcely will be on earth. She folds her hands 
on her peaceful breast and walks uncomplainingly 
in the straight and conventional way, but you place 
your arms akimbo and push and surge and knock 
against everybody. Take care. Miss Herman, you 
will wear your life away swimming against the tide.” 

‘Hf the sheep are happy in the herd, the stray 
would be miserable there, and I shall continue to 
follow my inclinations and browse in strange pas- 
tures. ” 

“Yes, you are all right. As I said once before, a 
meek and gentle spirit may be caged, but there are 
some natures that will not be restricted. ‘All the 
world’s a stage,’ and on her broad boards many 
dramas are played; there are comedies, melodramas, 
farces and tragedies,but after each and all the lights 
go out and the stage is dark.” 

Here as if to lend effect to the somber words and 
ominous half-prophecy, the electric lights were turned 
off.. The signal had been given, but neither had no- 
ticed it, so interested were they in their talk. 

“Mercy! I must go,” Helen said, springing uix 
“IMy door will be locked.” 

“Sleep with me,” Miss Dupont said. 

“But your room-mate?” 

“She hasn’t come yet. I suppose she will sleep 
where she is.” 

“No, I mustn’t stay,” Helen said, as she opened 
the door noiselessly. She liked Gleonice, was inter- 
ested in her, but could not endorse her bitter, strange 
denunciations, nor enjoy her grim, contemptuous 


A NEW WOMAN 


77 


moods. She could not think of spending the night 
with her, and hurried to her own room. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

“Are you going to church?” Agnes said to Helen, 
one Sunday morning in Januaiy, as they returned to 
their room from breakfast. 

“I think not — maybe I will, too, for I can’t ride 
my wheel to-day, and if I don’t go to church I won’t 
get out at all. The Sundays are so dull here after 
spending them in a large place like R — . ” 

“It was too bad about the blockade keeping you 
from going home, when you wanted to go so bad.” 
'Then after a moment: “Pardon me, Miss Herman, 
but it is queer to me that you do not belong to some 
religious denomination, when you read the Bible so 
much and quote Scripture like a phonograph. ” Agnes 
looked up in bashful expectancy. She feared she 
had gone a little too far, but had been dying for 
months to know why Helen didn’t belong to any 
church, and had never before had courage to ask. 

“I might tell you,” Helen returned, “but you 
wouldn’t be satisfied. You know all people do not 
see alike.” 

“But what are you, anyway? You must be some- 
thing. ” 

“Maybe I am, but I haven’t found a name for it 
yet.” 

Agnes looked up quickly. 


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A NEW WOMAN 


“Well, it’s the truth,” Helen said dryly. “I’ve 
a little sect of my own, I guess, and I don’t quarrel 
with the churches any worse than they do among 
themselves. 

“ ‘And concerning- the road tlie3^ can never aftree, 

The old or the new way, which shall it be? 

And never a moment stop to think 
That both must pause at the river’s brink. 

“ ' “ Sprinkled or plunged, may I ask, 1113^ friend. 

How 3mu attained to life’s great end?” 

“Thus, with a few drops upon my brow” — 

“But I’ve been plunged, as 3mu’ll see me now, 

“ And I realty think it will hardly do, 

As I’m in close communion, to cross with 3U)u; 
You’re bound, I knoAV, to the realm of bliss. 

But you must go that way and I’ll go this.” 

“ ‘ Tlien straightwa3^ plunging with all his might 
Off to the left, his friend to the right, 

Apart they went from this Avorld (jf sin. 

But at last together they entered in.’ 

“And just so it will be in the end. Just as every 
river runs directly or indirectly to the sea, will every 
soul get into the abode of the saints. God doesn’t 
tell us things that are unreasonable. When we un- 
derstand his laws we see them to be reasonable and 
methodical; we see that he had a plan and didn’t 
just flop tilings together. Why, the whole universe 
is governed by law; life and death are according to 
law. Philosophers study and dig, and when they have 
discovered a laAV they see it to be simple enough. 
The sun, shining through falling Avater, creates Avhat 
we call a rainboAv, yet i^eople Avere once superstitious 


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79 


nbout it, as they also were about the suii, the moon 
and nearly every aspect of Nature, until study re- 
vealed law behind all phenomena. We discovered 
the law of gravitation after it had been in operation 
for thousands of years. All of these things have ex- 
isted like the coal mines which, though unknown to 
man, have been in the depths of the earth awaiting 
his discovery of them. I think the time will come 
when we will understand that God knew what He 
was^about when He made the world.” Here Helen 
paused to give Agnes a chance to offer something, 
but the latter was in no mood for logical religion and 
absently replied, “Most probably.” 

Helen then launched into politics, began to talk of 
tariff, free silver, capital and labor, '^corrupt politi- 
cians and incomprehensible things in general, but 
Agnes only replied, “I don’t understand it at all.” 
But Helen was wound up and her tongue just had to 
relieva the tension on her mind, so she struck off on 
the temperance question, and here, to her surprise, 
Agnes pricked up her ears and began to show a de- 
cided interest. 

“Do you think it is wrong for men to drink?” she 
asked. 

“Oh, it all depends upon the man; if his hands are 
soft and white, and his purse is well lined, why, it’s 
too bad ; he is such a fine man otherwise — so influ- 
ential; but if his hands are rough and horny it’s 
awful — beastly. ” 

“But what do you think of the gold-cure so many 
are taking?” Agnes asked, smiling. Helen’s irony 
grated on her, bat still it amused her. 


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“Why, I think it is the best thing we have. It is 
doing more for the cause of temperance than the W. 
C. T. U. and church combined. It takes hold of a 
man in a different way; makes him feel ordinarily 
respectable; tells him that he is diseased andean be 
cured, just as he could be cured of any other disease. 
You see, it doesn’t degrade him as other temperance 
work does. The preacher says, ‘You poor, degraded, 
wretched, miserable old sinner, come up here and 
kneel at this altar and pray the blessed Lord to save 
your sinful soul from Hell. ’ The church might save 
him if it could convert him, hut it doesn’t go about 
it in the right way to succeed.” 

“Oh, I never heard a preacher talk that way.” 

“Well, I have. I heard a preacher tell his audi- 
ence that they were not fit for the buzzards to puke 
on, and a year later when he came back, the first 
thing he said was, ‘Well, you old cusses are here yet; 
I expected you would all be in hell by this time.’” 

“Oh, mercy I You must have lived in Arkansas or 
Texas.” 

“Don’t insult Arkansas or Texas by insinuating 
that such are peculiar to them. Why, these self- 
styled ‘evangelists’ are not confined to any locality, 
but are lunatics at large.” 

“But this man didn’t get any converts?” 

“Yes, he did, dozens and scores of them, and when 
he preached his farewell sermon women wept, and 
the whole congregation went forward to say good-bye, 
and some clung to his hand as if they never could 
bear to let him go. Indeed, they are very successful; 
so much so that local preachers are aping them until 


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81 


the pulpit is becoming — is the scene of the most dis- 
gusting sensationalism.” 

“Such a man would be hissed from any pulpit I 
know of. Our town is small, but our preachers are 
at least refined. But about the temperance union. 
You wear a white ribbon, but you speak of it as if 
it were doing the temperance cause no good.” 

“No, I think it does some good, of course. It at 
least appeals to refined women if not to men. Re- 
fined women will not drink.” 

“Oh, Helen, do not say that. You have never been 
in Saratoga; you have never been in London; the 
finer the lady the more she drinks. We were invited 
to spend a few days at Lady Cornwall’s country 
place, and I tell you a waiter could bring you a glass 
of wine quicker than he could a glass of ice water. 
Papa isn’t a temperance man, though he cannot be 
called a drinking man, but he made some excuse and 
got us away before the time set, and told Aunt Kate 
not to accept any more invitations; he was so afraid 
Joe would get to drinking. It’s different in Eng- 
land ; any one who turns his glass down at the table 
there is a conspicuous figure. Joe tried to turn his 
once at dinner, but in trying to be quick so as to 
avoid notice, broke it. His hostess promptly bade 
the waiter bring him another, never suspecting 
wliat caused him to do it.” 

“She probably knew that he was a congressman’s 
son. ” 

“Oh, yes,” Agnes answered, innocently, “and the 
hostess is a prominent woman in London.” 

“Well, I have my own private opinion of what is 
nice, but I have never been in society.” 


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A NEW WOMAN 


‘‘But,” said Agnes, recurring to the Ireatinent sub- 
ject, “did you ever know any one who took the gold- 
cure and always stuck to it?” 

“I know a man who has ‘always stuck,’ for seven 
years.” 

“And you think the cure a good thing.” 

“Most certainly. ” 

“And you think a majority are cured for good?” 

“Why, yes. But why are you so interested; does 
your father or brother drink?” 

“No.” 

“But somebody does — your sweetheart, maybe?” 

Agnes blushed and looked appealingly at Helen. 

“Well, if he does, I should prescribe the cure for 
him. ” 

“Oh, Helen, Miss Herman, I wish you would show 
half as much pity for me as you do for a hungry dog. 
I believe you spend two or three dollars a week bu}^- 
ing meat for hungry dogs.” 

“I don’t believe you are hungry, Agnes, and if you 
are it is your own fault; you eat at the same table 
with me, and I always satisfy myself.” 

“I’m not hungry, but my heart is breaking, ” Agnes 
said with a sob and buried her face in her hands. 

“Well, Agnes, if you’ve anything to tell, I’m ready 
to listen. I can’t promise any great sympathy in a 
love affair, but I will at least respect your confidence. ” 

Agnes raised her head and looked her thanks 
througli her tears. Like any other tender-hearted girl, 
she had longed for a confidante, and whilellelen’s odd, 
careless way had chilled her every time she would 
have divulged her secret, yet she longed to tell her. 


A NEW WOMAN 


83 


She knew that a girl who fed hungry dogs must 
have a warm spot in her heart. She felt great con- 
fidence in Helen’s power to move things. A girl 
who led in devotional exercises or not, just as she 
chose, a girl who had been elected president of a 
college society on a three weeks’ acquaintance, and 
who stood right in with the brainy principal must 
be endowed with uncommon ability ; and the depend- 
ent, clinging Agnes wanted just such a friend. 

“Oh, how good of you! I expect it’s awful in me 
to want to bother anyone else with my troubles.” 

“It won’t bother me. If I can give you any advice 
I will do so, and if I can’t I will dismiss it from my 
mind. ” 

So without any more preliminaries, Agnes began. 
She didn’t want to lose the vantage ground she 
had gained. 

“Papa, until the last two years, fed stock. Three 
years ago he hired a young man to come to the place 
to take charge of the business, buying and so forth. 
The young man’s name was George Sanderson, and 
he was very bright and well-mannered. Father took 
a liking to him and treated him as a friend. The 
next summer when Joe and I went home we got ac- 
quainted with him and liked him as well as papa did. 
We used to go on horseback with him all over the 
country when he was out buying stock. I was only 
fifteen and George twenty-two, but we thought a 
great deal of each other, and, with Joe as our confi- 
dante, we made arrangements to marry when I got to 
be eighteen, and go to California. George had been 
buying on the. Board of Trade and had made some- 


84 


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thing and we thought that in three years he would 
have money enough to buy a ranch. How we planned 
and how I hated to come back to school ! but of course 
I had to. I got a letter every other day. He was 
still making money and our planning continued and 
our atfection grew stronger all the time. Papa was 
reelected that fall. He had always kept wine, but 
the boys were never allowed to drink any and they 
never seemed to want to; but when papa knew him- 
self elected again, contrary to his usual way he gave 
the boys wine, and after he had gone to his room they 
got up and came back to the dining-room and drank 
and drank. There is where it began, but not where 
it ended with poor George. Joe hadn’t been in school, 
having been around with papa during the campaign, 
but the next day he was sent to school — one that was 
very strict — so he was all right, but George kept on 
until papa had to discharge him, and a letter was 
sent to school telling them not to let me correspond 
with him. So we lost each other. I heard afterward 
that he lost his money just as he had made it — oii 
the Board of Trade, but heard nothing from him 
directly until last summer, when Joe accidentally 
ran across him. Papa felt so bad about the affair 
that he had the wine locked up in the cellar and is 
awful careful who he treats now. 

“A year ago last summer I went to Europe with 
papa and Aunt Kate and Joe. We traveled some, 
but spent most of our time in London, where I met 
a Lord Avon. He was handsome and rich and was 
very nice to me, but I thought nothing of it at the 
time; last summer he came unexpectedly, one day. 


A NEW WOMAN 


85 


and talked with papa; told him that he had fallen 
in love with me in London, and was just on the point 
of proposing to me when he heard I was engaged. 
But fortunately he had just discovered the report to be 
false and had hurried right over to ask me to be his 
wife, and he begged papa to consent. Papa said he 
would leave it to me and sent for me to come down.” 
Agnes blushed and stammered. “I — well — I don’t 
know how it happened. I don’t think I intended to 
say yes, but when he went away I was — we were en- 
gaged. 

“Two days afterwards Joe came home — he had 
been off with a fishing party. Well, he was so dis- 
gusted with me to think that I would marry an Eng- 
lishman, and a titled one at that, that he got me as 
disgusted as himself. And then he told me that he 
had seen George Sanderson; that George’s uncle had 
paid for his treatment and sent him to school; and 
that George hadn’t drunk for over two years and was 
a temperance lecturer. Then after I came here I got 
a letter from him, and ’twas he who came to see me 
that day, you know.” 

“The most serious kind of a love affair is trivial 
enough to me, but I really do feel a little sympathy 
for you. What are you going to do about it?” 

“Why, what can I do? I must keep my promise.” 

“But couldn’t you do something to make him 
draw off?” 

“Oh, a man never breaks an engagement.” 

“Well, Miss Easton, I would help you if I could, 
but I see no chance. I am interested in other things, ” 
and Helen turned and looked absently out of the 


86 


A NEW WOMAN 


window. She felt sorry for her room-mate, yet she 
had no admiration for the woman who could spend 
her life weeping and mourning over an unhappy love 
affair. With a world to save; with riot and blood- 
shed on every hand and the fierce fight between 
capital and labor threatening dire disaster to the 
country; when every day brought fresh news of se- 
rious trouble somewhere, such mooning was con- 
temptible. She was educating herself to take part 
in the struggle, and so strong and vivid was her 
thought that she irrelevantly quoted aloud: “For 
when you see these signs, you may know that the 
time is near, even at the door.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

“Won’t they ever do anything with the silver ques- 
tion?” Helen said to herself, as she threw the even- 
ing paper down and left the reading-room. Every 
day since Congress had been called together she had 
watched the papers, and every day it was the same 
thing. Some senator six or eight, or even ten hours 
on the floor and talking as long as he had anything 
to say; when he had nothing more to say he was 
privileged to hold the floor and keep his mouth go- 
ing. The country raved and swore vengeance on the 
traitors, 

“ Whose treason like a deadly blight 
Comes o’er the councils of the brave; 

And blasts them in their hour of might. ” 

In disgust Helen sought Cleonice. She could de- 


A NEW WOMAN. 


Si 


nounce a Democratic, congress to Cleonice, but she 
couldn’t let Agnes know how disappointed she was. 
A Democrat can scorch his party’s doings to another 
Democrat, but not to a Republican. 


CHAPTER XX. 

Cleonice Dupont, acting upon Helen’s suggestion 
to study the Bible for the sake of knowledge, if noth- 
ing more, had gradually grown so interested in it 
that she studied it more than any of her books. One 
day she was sitting reading page after page. 

“Now learn a parable of the fig tree; when his 
branch is yet tender and putteth forth leaves ye may 
know the summer is nigh. 

“So likewise ye, when ye see all these things, know 
that the end is near, even at the door.” 

“It is true, ” she said, “I believe it is true; the 
time of the end is at hand. But with all the proof 
at hand there is still strong evidence against. For 
no bastard can enter the Kingdom of Heaven ; how 
can she reconcile that? Oh, they ran, and pray and 
adore the blessed Lord, and yet in His Word He says 
no bastard shall enter heaven. Why should I want 
to be there and my precious innocent darling not 
with me?” Here she opened a drawer and took a 
picture from it and gazed at it with streaming eyes. 

“No, my baby, I must be with you wherever you 
are; I must be with you and no bastard can enter 
the Kingdom of Heaven. Oh, God, why can’t my 
sin fall upon my own soul?” she said, sobbing wildly. 


88 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Why, Cleonice, what is the matter? You didn’t 
hear me knock and I heard you crying, so I came 
in. ” 

“Helen Herman, you here!” Cleonice said, spring- 
ing to her feet, the tender expression gone and a look 
of proud defiance settling on her dark face. “You 
are here to spy upon me, you false friend, you deceit- 
ful comrade. I was fool enough to like you; I would 
have trusted you, because with your frank, open, in- 
dependent manner you seemed worthy of trust, but 
now I know it to be but a mask to cover your deceit- 
ful purposes.” 

“Cleonice, you had no cause to trust me. I never 
asked, never wanted your confidence. I don’t invite 
the confidence of aiiy one, for I do not care to be en- 
cumbered with the troubles of individuals. I liked 
you because you were not a silly, giggling girl ; be- 
cause you were original, well read and good company. 
You interested me because you are not so foolishly 
conventional as the ordinary woman. 

“I know your secret,” she continued, “but I did 
not seek to discover it. I suspected nothing, but" 
hearing you sobbing, thoughtlessly hurried in. I 
heard your last words and caught a glimpse of the 
pretty baby picture, and though country born and 
bred I’m not an innocent fool. But before now I 
never suspected you, considering you a woman of 
courage and strong character, above the frivolity of 
love and weak passion. Alas, I find my mistake 
and I cannot help showing what I feel, contempt for 
one who, endowed with God’s choicest gifts, intelli- 
gence, keen perceptions, allowed herself to be whee- 
dled and coaxed like any pretty silly girl out — ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


89 


“Helen Herman, there' is the door. Go, and tell 
what you know — I defy you. The same trouble that 
has befallen me has befallen many others. You have 
chosen the same profession that I chose. You will 
admire what I admired — the society of the polished 
gentlemen ; you have the same weaknesses and pas- 
sions that I had. Be warned and go, but remember 
‘the rapids are below you.’” 


CHAPTER XXL 

“The headache again, Agnes?” Helen said one 
day when she came up from dinner and found Agnes 
bathing her head in ice water. “I missed you at 
dinner and knew what the matter was, of course. 
Well, if you’re determined to have the headache, I 
can’t do anything for you.” 

“It’s so fearfully warm,” Agnes said, paying no 
attention to Helen’s remark. She had grown accus- 
tomed to her room-mate’s way, and though she dis- 
liked it, paid no attention to it. 

“There is a black cloud coming up in the north- 
west. We will get rain this evening, maybe, and the 
atmosphere will be cooled off.” 

“Are you going down?” Agnes asked as Helen 
turned to leave the room. 

“Yes, I’m going to get a book.” 

“Bring me something.” 

“What shall it be?” 

“Oh, something light. ” 

“Shall I bring you a magazine, Scribner^ $ or the 
Arena 


90 


A NEW Woman 


“Oh no, something light — something that won’t 
make my headache worse.” 

“I might find Mother Goose’s Rhymes.” 

“Helen, you are just hateful, you are. Because I 
can’t plow through the ‘Age of Reason,’ or the ‘De- 
scent of Man, ’ or something equally absurd and con- 
trary to the Bible, is no reason why you should speak 
to me as though I had no sense. You believe the Bi- 
ble, or claim you do, and I don’t see how you can 
read Darwin’s books trying to prove man came from 
a monkey and a monkey from something lower. You 
are not consistent. I believe you are afraid that 
somebody will know something that you don’t.” 

“Well, forgive me, Agnes, I was just joking. But 
you and I look upon books in a different way; I 
should want to read something good if I read at all. 
The Arena is the best magazine going; there’s vari- 
ety of reading in it, and you can pick out what you 
want. Mercy I what a clap of thunder I how quickly 
that cloud has come up! Well, shall I bring you a 
paper?” 

“No, no, that clap of thunder has nearly set me 
crazy. Oh, my head 1” 

“Sha’n’t I do something for you?” 

“I don’t know what you could do. I’ll feel better 
after the rain. Gracious! that thunder I Go to the 
end of the hall and look, Helen! How the wind 
blows, and such lightning. Come back, Helen!” 
Agnes screamed frantically. Just then a blinding 
flash of lightning and a deafening crash of thunder 
rent the air and Agnes saw Helen fall at the farther 
end of the hall, just as she turned to run. 


A NEW WOMAN 


91 


^‘Oh, Heaven! Helen, come — I’ll help you — can’t 
you help yourself a lit lie?” 

But Helen was senseless aiul White as the dead. 
The storm was growing fiercer; the great branches 
of trees daslied against the windows, smashing as 
they went. The hysterical screams of the girls, added 
to the storm, made an indescribable din. 

Agnes called loudly for help, but none came; then 
with a strength wholly foreign to her small fragile 
form, she seized Helen and dragged her the length of 
the hall to the stairwa}^, and then looked around in 
despair; she could go no farther, so she dropped her 
burden and started for help; she had reached but the 
middle of the stairway when she was roughly pushed 
aside by Cleon ice Dupont. 

“You coward girl; the building is on fire. I 
wouldn’t leave a dog to be burned to death.” 

The building was filled with smoke and the wind 
lashed the flames to a fury, but Agnes hadn’t noticed 
it; she crouched down on the steps against the ban- 
ister to allow Cleonice to pass, carrying Helen in 
her arms as if she had been an infant. 

A moment more and the storm was over. The 
cloud had spent its force, and rode past still looking 
ink}^ and awful. The sun shone out and it was very 
calm 

The lightning had struck a wing of the structure 
easily accessible, but the fire-company extinguished 
the flames with little difficulty. 

When Helen came to herself she was in bed and 
Agnes was bending over her. The matron stood at 


02 


A NEW WOMAN 


the foot of the bed and the doctor was busy at the 
table preparing medicine. 

“All right,” he said as he saw Helen return to 
consciousness. “She’ll get along all right now; just 
follow up with these drops every hour and if she is 
restless and sleepless to-night, give one of these 
powders and another in three hours if she is still 
restless. Can this young woman be trusted to w'atch 
her?” he asked the matron. 

“Oh, yes, I think she can, if you give full direc- 
tions. You say there is nothing serious?” 

“Oh, no, as much fright as anything. You un- 
derstand about the medicine; the drops every hour 
and the powders if she should be restless; and report 
to me in the morning.” Then he took his hat and 
went to the door, where he stopped and again gave 
orders about the medicine. 

Helen waited until the doctor and the matron had 
gone, then turned to Agnes: “So they’ve got me 
bundled up in bed and somehow I feel satisfied to be 
here. How did it happen? I remember the storm 
breaking and my feeling dizzy and faint, but that’s 
all.” 

“You were shocked by the lightning.” 

“No, Agnes, it must have been the thunder. The 
awfulest crashes I ever heard I” 

“The thunder frightened you, but it must have 
been the lightning that shocked you.” 

“No, I am sure, I remember the thunder plainer 
than the lightning. But what else happened? I see 
the building is left standing.” 

“Yes, but it came near burning down; the floor is 


A NEW WOMAN 


98 


all burnt away where you fell and the walls are in 
such a shape that that wing will have to be rebuilt. ” 

‘‘And who got me away?” 

“Why, I dragged you to the head of the stairs and 
Cleonice Dupont came running up and carried you 
down. ” 

“You got me away, Agnes; i/oit dragged me to the 
stairs?” Helen asked in amazement, as she looked 
at the girl she had always thought to be so insignif- 
icant. 

“Yes, I got you that far, but couldn’t get you any 
further, and if it hadn’t been for Miss Dupont you 
would have been suffocated by the smoke.” 

“Well, Agnes, I’m grateful to you and Cleonice, 
but words don’t mean anything. Maybe I’ll be able 
sometime to show my gratitude in some more sub- 
stantial manner; for the present I’m terribly in 
your debt. Now I will rest; I feel sleepy,” Helen 
said as her eyes filled with tears; and she turned her 
face to the wall. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

A PEW days later Helen was up, and she and Agnes 
were very close together, talking in the most friendly 
way in the world. 

“Agnes, I arranged it all while I lay in bed. I will 
hunt the Englishman up — make desperate love to 
him and take him off your hands.” 

Agnes threw her arm around Helen’s neck and tried 


94 


A NEW WOMAN 


to remonstrate, but Helen stopped her. ‘‘You see, 
I owe you something. t)f course I don’t know any- 
thing about your lordling,but if he’s like all the others 
my three millions will catch him. Then if he’s a 
little fastidious, why, I’m pretty enough. I’m not 
awkward, appear well, and I’ve enough education; 
and then you can have your boy lover.” 

“Oh, Helen, Helen I I used to think you had a 
heart of stone, but you are an angel. You would 
ruin your own happiness — no, I can’t let you.” 

“I’ve no happiness to ruin. I’m not in love with 
anybody and I don’t see why I might not fall in love 
with the Englishman as well as with anyone else and 
make him treat you so you could break oif the 
engagement.” Helen was very sure she could do any- 
thing she chose and Agnes thought her almost super- 
human. 

“I positively believe you could do so if you 
wanted to; but it does look so awful, so wicked for 
us to be planning on such a thing.” 

“Looks wicked for a girl to be planning to secure 
a titled husband? I have wanted one ever since I 
was ten years old, and now — Oh, ye gods! I will have 
him in spite of you; I will captivate him with my 
three millions and my smile. Oh, I’m determined, 
Agnes; but the thing is, how shall I meet him?” 

“You shall go home with me in June.” The 
temptation was too strong. “He is invited to be 
there and we are all going to Saratoga or Newport 
to spend the hottest part of summer.” 

“I positively believe there is something natural in 
me despite your constant assurance that I’m the 
queerest girl on earth. I already feel quite jubilant 


A NEW WOMAN 


95 


over the prospect. I believe I know how to flirt, if 
I haven’t had the experience. But I must have some 
new dresses, and instead of taking my lessons next 
Saturday I’ll go to the city on a shoj)ping excur- 
sion. Can’t you go along? But I must go to Cle- 
onice. You say she didn’t come near while I was' 
in bed?” 

“No, but she asked after you several times.” 

“Well, I will go to her room.” 

“Yes, I would. You two haven’t been very friendly 
lately; and she did more than I to save you.” 

A few moments later Helen knocked at Cleonice’s 
door. It was the hour when she had always found 
Cleonice alone, and this time was no exception to 
the rule. Cleonice opened the door and stepj)ed back 
and motioned Helen to enter. 

“Cleonice, ’’Helen said, much embarrassed, “I want 
to thank you for saving me as you did. I want to 
say that I appreciate what 3^11 have done, and I don’t 
consider a mere ‘thank you’ sufficient. Cleonice, I 
want to be your friend. I want to be on the same 
terms with you that I was three weeks ago.” 

“Miss Herman, you could do nothing less than 
offer your friendship. But tell me the truth fully, 
have you missed my companionship, would you have 
offered your friendship if I had not rendered you a 
service?” 

“Yes, I have missed you; my evenings have been 
dull. No, I probably would never have come to you 
had you not done as you did, for I shouldn’t have 
known that you possessed true courage; I would still 
have fancied you as weak in every way as — 


96 


A NEW WOMAN 


“As I have been in moral courage,” Cleonice said. 
“Miss Herman, you can’t possibly feel any more 
contempt for me than I feel for myself. It will not 
be possible for us to be to each other just what we 
were; we stand upon different planes; you are higher 
and nobler in my sight than you were, and I, alas, 
am a depraved creature to you.” 

“How? Didn’t you save my life in return for the 
denunciation I. hurled at you? How have I risen in 
your estimation?” 

“Because you have known my secret and kept it 
and allowed no one to see by your manner that we 
were not friends. Haven’t you spoken just as courte- 
ously as ever, and wasn’t it an effort? Your face 
crimsons; it is true; I have felt the same even when 
leading an immoral life myself; I have drawn my 
skirts aside that I might not brush against one of 
my own kind; and to-day I despise immoral women, 
and those most who cloak their sin with assumed 
purity.” 

“Oh, Cleonice, you can’t know what contempt I 
feel for myself for treating you as — ” 

“We can’t be the same again, Helen,” Cleonice 
interposed. “I don’t expect that; but we can spend 
an evening together occasionally. You advised me 
to read the Bible just for knowledge’sake, and I fiiui 
that it satisfies more than knowledge, but there are 
places that I do not understand and I want your 
help.” 

“I will do all lean for you; but I feel so insignif- 
icant. Oh, T feel so weak and small in the sight 
of God. Do you know, I iiad often thanked Him 


A NEW WOMAN 


97 


that I was not as others, as you and Agnes Easton. 
She with her child’s face and almost child’s form, 
did for me whiit I with my great strong body might 
not have done for her. And you, whom I had wronged, 
rushed back in a burning building and rescued me.” 
Here the last vestige of her pride vanished and she 
burst into tears. 

“Sit down, Helen, I’m going to tell you some- 
thing of my past life, that you may take warning. 
Don’t ever be deceived by the idea that marriage in 
the sight of God is equivalent to marriage sanctioned 
by man. As sure as you do, your peace of mind is 
gone. You take to trashy literature, wine and gam- 
bling. You must occupy yourself with something, 
and your paramour cannot take you among women 
of his acquaintance. You go down the ladder, step 
by step, first with fear and trembling, then with less 
trepidation, finally carelessly and recklessly. Fifty 
outcast women die in sin to one that is reclaimed. 
Few men of these whom we recognize as gentlemen 
will marry the mistress of another man, and there is 
no happiness to be had in such marriage, for the 
man never trusts such a wife and is always suspi- 
cious. I don’t know how God punishes the libertine 
and seducer after death, but his happiness is not 
marred on earth. But the Lord did curse Eve and 
that curse still rests upon her daughters.” Helen 
sat witli her face hidden in her hands. A few mo- 
ments ago her pride seemed entirely gone, but now 
it began to rise. Why should she be warned against 
such things; she with her stout heart and dauntless 
courage? But she was silent, feeling that she must 
listen to anything that Cleonice had to say. 


98 


A NEW WOMAN 


“You are left just as I was,” Oleonice continued, 
“an orphan, without friends, beautiful, and very sure 
of your own strength. You are about to go upon 
the stage. That is what I did. A few words more 
then you may go, and we will ignore the subject for- 
ever. Remember to avoid wine, first, last and al- 
ways, and that though you may sail smoothly for 
a time, ‘the rapids are below you.’” 


CHAPTER XXIIL 

Congressman Easton and his son were in the li- 
brary, Joe having run down from school to spend 
Sunday at home. 

“But about this unpleasant little affair with the 
Englishman; just how wdll w'e manage it? You are 
sure Aggie doesn’t care anything for him?” 

“Not a continental,” Joe returned in a man-of- 
the-world fashion, as he bit the end off a Havana 
and lighted it. “She don’t even rave over his hair 
and mustache.” 

“Then the evidence is conclusive, you think — keen 
perception, Joe — evidence that you will be a success 
at law — but have you any suggestions to offer?” 

“Why, he is already invited to spend the summer 
with us.” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, invite some other Englishman, so he won’t 
be lonesome; then a girl or two — rich ones, of course 
— and I’ll manage to give out the impression that 


A NEW WOMAN 


99 


your finances are not what they might be. There’s 
the thing in a nutshell.” 

“My scheme exactly! But what girls shall we 
ask?” 

“Had we better invite two or only one?” 

“Why, if we have two, he’ll have a variety to choose 
from.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Pa; a variety might 
rattle the poor fellow ; he might not be able to de- 
cide between them, and after all take Agnes.” 

“Keen perceptions again, Joe; I’ve really cause to 
be proud of you. But who shall the one be? Most 
rich girls will be wanting to go to Saratoga or New- 
port as soon as the season opens. They won’t want 
to come out to a country place even for a fortnight. ” 

“Don’t you fool j^^ourself,” Joe said as he daintily 
tipped the ashes from his cigar. “Just casually men- 
tion in your invitation that Lord Avon, of — shire, 
England, will be here, and see how quick she’ll re- 
nounce Saratoga and the pretty bathing suits of New- 
port. ” 

Our congressman chuckled; his son was indeed 
promising. “Well, you’ve done so well, so far, that 
I might have left the whole thing to jmu, as I intend 
to from now on. Whom will you invite?” 

“Did Agnes ever say anything to you in her letters 
about her room-mate?” 

“Not that I remember of.” 

“Well, she has to me; wrote that she had a room- 
mate who was an orphan without relatives and very 
rich — worth three millions.” 

“Just the very thing. But wait; I believe she re- 


100 


A NEW WOMAN 


ferred to her a time or two, but never very warmly 
— didn’t seem to like her, in fact.” 

“Write her and tell her to be good to the widows 
and orphans; tell her that you liked the description 
of her friend and to bring her home with her in 
June. That wasn’t the one Agnes helped in the 
storm?” 

Here the mail was handed in. “Give me the news, 
quick, Joe; I wonder how the market closed off.” 
Then hastily scanning the prices, our modern legis- 
lator ejaculated, “By G — d, I’ll hold on a while 
longer.” 

“Here is a letter for you from Agnes. Shall I 
open it?” 

“Of course.” And Joe read: 

“May 23, 1894. 

“My Dear Father and Auntie : — I haven’t had an 
answer to my last, but I suppose you are both busy. 
I will pass all right, though I don’t expect to come 
out with honors. I wish some of you could be here 
to see me graduate, but of course I know that to be 
impossible, unless it might be that Aunt Kate could 
come, if she could be content to leave off prepara- 
tions for our English guest. 

“I wish I could bring a friend home with me — 
Miss Herman, my room-mate. I didn’t used to like 
her, but since the storm we have gotten to be great 
friends. She’s just splendid, only she’s a Democrat, 
but surely you won’t care for that. She can’t vote 
but she can talk like everything, yet I know she 
won’t do anything to injure you while she is our 
guest. I think she is the finest girl in the world, and 
so will you. I do hope I may bring her. Let me 
know at once. Lovingly, 


“Agnes.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


101 


“Everything plays into our hands,” Joe said, as 
he laid the letter down. “I’ll answer it, Pa.” 

“Wish you would. I’ll have to start for Wash- 
ington this evening. Every Republican has to be 
on duty these days; we must defeat every Demo- 
cratic measure. D — d if they haven’t got things in 
a precious muddle! Can’t agree among themselves 
about tariff or silver; haven’t done anything but 
empty the treasury, and the people are disgusted 
and mad. This congress’ doings will kill the Demo- 
cratic party and we’re going to assist the business all 
we can and get ready to preside at the funeral. Don’t 
know as the Republicans are united on issues, but 
we’re hell on methods. But I tell you, Joe, you 
want to keep your weather eye open for developments 
among the people. If I’m not mistaken, a few years 
will show different issues and maybe new parties, 
and you want to be onto the racket so as to know 
which way to jump; but tariff for the people, and 
‘The Substantial’ for We, Us and Co., is the game 
just now.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

We are in London again, in the apartments of Sir 
Alfred Gates. Lord Avon has just been ushered in. 
He offers one hand to his friend while caressing his 
mustache with the other. 

“How are you. Sir Alfred?” 

“Splendid; and how is your lordship?” 


102 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Violent, desperate, on the verge of suicide,” he 
said as he dropped into a chair. 

“What’s the matter; don’t your new trousers fit?” 

“Worse yet. Just listen to this,” and he drew a 
letter from his pocket. “I will waive all ceremony 
and plunge right into the business part: ‘You have 
already promised to come, this summer, and accom- 
pany us on our summer outing. Now, it is my in- 
tention to have a few guests here at my country 
home for a few weeks, . before going to a summer re- 
sort. It may be a little lonesome for you here among 
strangers, so you may bring some friend if you wish, 
and I assure you that he, as well as yourself, will be 
most welcome. My sister, Mrs. Daniels, my son and 
daughter, a friend of the latter, and possibly one or 
two others, will be here to meet and greet you. Come, 
if possible, by the twenty-fifth of June, ’ and soon.” 

“You ought to be delighted,” Sir Alfred ventured 
to say. 

“What! Delighted to be drying up in the back- 
woods with Saratoga in full blast?” 

“But it seems thereJs to be a sort of house-party. ” 

“Yes, consisting of a homely widow, fifty years 
old, a boy of twenty or thereabouts, who possesses 
all the conceit of the typical American, coupled with 
the arrogance of a congressman’s son, and a couple 
of school girls.” 

“Well, I say again that you ought to be delighted. ” 

“So I am, so I am,” returned his lordship, chang- 
ing his tactics in an instant, “and I came to delight 
you by inviting you as the specified friend to go with 
me.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


103 


“But it is a wholly different thing with me. You 
are going to your betrothed and I should have only 
the unsatisfactory pleasure of looking on and real- 
izing w'hat I miss. ” 

“But there is Miss Easton’s friend. She may be 
very agreeable, is probably rich, and possibly pretty. ” 

“Yes, she might be all that, but I’m not curious 
enough to cross the ocean to find out.” 

“But we will have a perfectly lovely time. Amer- 
ica is so different from London. Out in the country 
there is no constraint; we will be told to make our- 
selves at home; and we can find the cellar if there is 
nothing on the sideboard.” 

“Pardon me,” Sir Alfred said, springing up. 
“Have a glass of wine.” 

“Thank you, ” his lordship returned, laughing as 
he drank. “Then we can have a second dish of pud- 
ding and everything to match. There’s no limit to 
liberty in ‘the land of the free and the home of the 
brave.’ Why, we can do anything, unless it be to 
kiss the cook, and we might find something more 
agreeable to kiss. Do go; what will you do this sum- 
mer if you don’t?” 

“When is the wedding to come off?” 

“Oh, sometime in the fall — October, I believe. 
And you always promised to be best man.” 

“And so I will I will go over in the shi23 with 
the trousseau and be there in plenty of time.” 

“Well, I don’t know what fresh argument to offer, ” 
and his lordship actually pulled his mustache in de- 
spair. 

“Well, cheer up, then; I’ll go. I don’t mind much 


104 


A NEW WOMAN 


where I am, anyway. ‘There’s nothing new under 
the sun.’ One might as well watch the world going 
to hell from that side as this. There’s as conclusive 
evidence there as here, but tell me about their cus- 
toms; what’s expected of one?” 

“Why, weren’t you there? I thought you figured, 
or tried to, for a while in American society.” 

Sir Alfred blushed. “Don’t mention it, please. 
But I might as well admit that I never felt very com- 
fortable over the encounter I had, and I don’t be- 
lieve I fell in with the best society. If I thought 
you had done no better I would offer you condolence 
instead of congratulations.” 

“I don’t know what you struck; you have never 
told me. Anything — ahem — compromising? Ha, 
ha!” 

“No, no,” ' Sir Alfred hastened to say. “Just 
trades-people, rich, but vulgar. And I thought I was 
going to have to marry the whole family. Did you 
ever see anything like the American appetite for 
titles?” 

“I swear I never did. I didn’t fare as roughly as 
you did; but Gad! I was gobbled up the instant I 
offered myself.” Then bethinking himself, his lord- 
ship said, “The Eastons are fine people, of course; 
tliere are none finer in America. But a new coun- 
try cannot be expected to display the excellencies cff 
an old established one like ours. You know our turf 
is the product ofcenlurios, just as we are sprung from 
a long line of aristocratic ancestry. ” And he caressed 
his mustache complacently. 

“But society has some kind of requirements. One 


A NEW WOMAN 


105 


doesn’t care to run against the merest idiosyncrasies 
of those with whom he associates. Do the women 
expect to be flattered as much there as here?” 

‘‘Tliey don’t resent it, I assure you. You can act 
just the same there as here, but you mustn’t say the 
same things. It’s limb instead of leg; it’s the Court 
here, but the Four Hundred there. You just simply 
shake hands with everybody, high and low, and offer 
a cigar if you want to. It isn’t likely we’ll meet the 
President at the White House, but if we should be, 
invited don’t get excited; you don’t have to tip-toe 
in, nor back out, nor kiss his hand.” 

‘‘Oh, thunder, I understand such things. I want 
to know how to treat the ladies. Do they dance as 
they do here?” 

“Just the same,and their waists are quite as small. 
You mustn’t smoke in the presence of a lady either 
in the house or in the carriage.” 

“Now you’re coming at it. Keep on.” 

“Don’t ask every lady to drink with you. When 
you see a woman with a knot of white ribbon on the 
front of her dress, don’t ask her what it means — 
total abstinence. A yellow one’s female suffrage, 
but if you should meet one of them you wouldn’t 
have to ask; she’d announce her principles at long 
range. Just make it a rule to be a little cautious at 
all times.” 

“Thank you, my lord. I must not ask the ladies 
indiscriminately to drink; I must not smoke when 
promenading in the — what do you call it? I must 
steer clear of the woman’s rights advocate, talk 
about the Four Hundred, and when I want to say leg 


106 


A NEW WOMAN 


I must say Inn — by the way, how do you spell it?” 

“Go on, go on. You’ll pass muster. Oh, we’ll 
have a glorious time. I tell you, if you want to be 
drunk mentally, and morally, all summer, just go 
to Saratoga, and that is probably where they will go. 
I assure you that Saratoga is right on top; she’s up 
with Paris, now; in another season she’ll be out of 
sight. But I must go; I can’t squander time in this 
way. I will see my tailor and you’d better do the 
same. We must go well dressed; they know how to 
dress over there,” his lordship said gayly, as he 
stepped into the hall. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

Our congressman was at home again after another 
installment of legislative jangling, and was lounging 
in the library feeling in' the best of humor. His 
daughter, with her friend, would come in a couple 
of days; the Englishmen would be on hand accord- 
ing to request; while Joe might turn in any minute. 

Now our genial, popular legislator was a good, 
kind father; he loved his sweet daughter and was 
fond and proud of his Joe. He was also a generous 
host and meant to entertain his guests in the best 
style, priding himself with the thought that he would 
give them a taste of hospitality of the American 
brand. He had had a tilt with his conscience, as 
well as with his sister — who was a white ribbon er, 
— on the subject of wine for the guests. He had al- 


A NEW WOMAN 


107 


ways kept wine, but never since the fate of George 
Sanderson had it been kept on the sideboard or table. 
Realizing that one might as well offer an Englishman 
a bed without springs, or a table without legs, as a 
dinner without wine, he had reasoned with his con- 
science, overruled Mrs. Daniels’ objections, bitter 
though they were, and ordered his already really 
fine stock replenished with some of the choicest 
brands to be had. But for all that, he knew the evils 
of intemperance and was waiting to have a serious 
talk with his son. There was a swish and a buzz, 
and a bicycle stopped at the gate. Joe sprang lightly 
to the ground and ran to meet his father, who was 
coming to greet him. 

“Hello, Joe, how do you come on?” 

“Firstrate, Pa. How are you and how did you 
come out in your last deal?” 

“I’m holding on yet; corn will go up, there’s such 
a scarcity of rain.” 

“Yes, looks like a general drouth. Have you heard 
from Agnes?” 

“Yes, they’ll be here day after to-morrow.” 

“Got second honors. Pa.” 

“That’s good, but come in; I want to have a quiet 
talk with you.” 

“What’s the matter with out here? There’s the 
hammock for you and I’ll take the grass,” and suit- 
ing the action to the word, he stretched his shapely, 
athletic legs on the ground and rested his head on 
his hand. 

“Well, you know that we are going to entertain 
two Englishmen soon.” 


108 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Yes.” 

“Well, I want to entertain them in style; and to 
do it, must furnish them something to drink.” 

“Of course.” 

“And it must be on the sideboard and table; I 
can’t invite them to the cellar.” 

“Well?” 

■“Why, Joe, I shall expect you to abstain.” 

“Indeed I” 

“Yes, indeed; it won’t do for a young man of 
your age, who expects to carve out a name for him- 
self, to begin to tip the social glass. In fact, I be- 
lieve the man who lets the stuff alone without being 
a crank on the subject, is the most successful. When 
a man applies for a position, the first question is, 
‘Does he drink?’ There are three things a promis- 
ing, ambitious young man must avoid. ” 

“What besides wine?” 

“Cards, except in a social way; and women with- 
out any exceptions. I don’t want to exclude all forms 
of pleasure; you can sow your wild oats, of course—” 
here the politician floundered. 

“Please tell me, my dear father, where I’m to sow 
my wild oats without wine, women and cards!” 

“You can smoke the best cigars and go hunting 
and fishing all you like, and have all the white 
breeches you want,” the father said very soberly. 
But Joe laughed aloud; he was anxious to turn the 
whole thing into a joke. 

“I’m in earnest, Joe.” 

“And — I’m twenty-one, father.” 

“I know that, and of course you can get into all 


A NEW WOMAN 


109 


the d — d meanness you want to, but T thought I 
could trust a little to your judgment and common 
sense. ” 

Joe sobered at this. He was proud of his distin- 
guished father and proud of the place he held in his 
father’s estimation. “Well, father. I’ll promise on 
the wine question and study about the other. Will 
you have to go back before our guests arrive?” 

“I hope not. I won’t unless the}^ wire me that 
I'm needed and as they sauntered toward the house 
he added, “Remember, Joe, I don’t object to an in- 
nocent flirtation. Here, have a smoke.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

Commencement was over at the seminary and the 
students were in the delightful confusion of leave- 
taking. Our girls were up before daylight, having 
been unable to sleep much. In fact Agnes had not 
slept at all and Helen’s fitful slumber had, at an 
early hour, terminated in a dream of personal con- 
quest in the Mother Country — having forced the 
Britishers to acquiesce to a bimetallic standard. 
This waked her up ready for the work at hand. 

Before long the whole dormitory was awake. There 
Avas a constant opening and shutting of doors; trunks 
and boxes were dragged into the hall. Clatter and 
chatter reigned everywhere; and Agnes and Helen 
did their share to make the din a merry one. Helen 
seemed to have forgotten this ever-dying Avorld, cap- 


110 


A NEW WOMAN 


ital and labor, repeal of the purchasing clause, tariff 
and the thousand other subjects she was wont to 
spend much breath and energy upon. She had either 
dropped with enthusiasm into the ordinary role of 
woman, that of contemplating flirtation and con- 
quests, or she was playing her part well. 

‘‘Here, Agnes, will you button my dress? I didn’t 
think three months ago that I’d ever be fool enough 
to have a diess that buttoned under the arm. What 
a nuisance they are, and mercy, how tight 1” she 
said with a half scowl as Agnes proceeded. 

“No, it’s not very tight; it’s just the stays that 
make it stiff. ” 

“Well, I couldn’t handle the dumb-bells in this.” 

“It won’t be necessary. You won’t even have to 
walk without support when you are with his lord- 
ship; Englishmen are so much politer than Ameri- 
cans — at least they make a greater ado over things. ” 

“It’s the latter, I think. There’s an Englishman 
back home who came over when he was only twelve 
years old, and he can’t bend his head to spit without 
a flourish, and his manner is so obsequious that he 
absolutely seems to be deferential to fence posts, 
doorsills and the like. And he’s only an ordinary 
man, so I sha’n’t be surprised if his lordship is much 
more elaborate. You say he has curly hair?” 

“Yes, such beautiful hair; as fine and soft as your 
own, and the finest mustache I ever saw. And so 
handsome! Oh, Helen! I just know that you will 
marry him and go to England, and I won’t see yon 
again.” 

“Maybe not, Agnes.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


111 


“Oh, aren’t you in earnest with me?” 

“Yes, Agnes, I am in earnest with you. Now I 
will go and say good-bye to Cleonice. ” 

But Cleonice was gone, having left on the mid- 
night train, leaving a short farewell note for Helen, 
which was handed her by Miss Martin. Helen read 
it and returned in a preoccupied state of mind to her 
room, where she sat silent until train-time, much to 
the discomfiture of Agnes. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

Joe met the girls at the end of their journey. “My, 
ain’t she a stunner I” he said under his breath, as soon 
as Helen appeared on the car platform. “She’ll 
rattle that dude all right.” 

Helen and Joe readily became acquainted, and be- 
fore the first day was over had had a race on their 
wdieels, and a political scrap, in which both claimed 
the victory. ^ 

But now the evening of the twenty-fifth had come. 
Agnes had finally stopped fussing over Helen’s hair, 
had pinned flowers in the meshes of the lace at her 
throat, and pronounced her perfect. Joe scowled as 
they entered the parlors. “Togged up for the for- 
eigners! Pa and I haven’t seen anything but plain 
brown or gray duds, ” and Joe turned to go in disgust. 

“Don’t go off, Joe; I’m horribly nervous; stay and 
see the thing through and lend jmur assistance, if 
necessary, as every American should, ” Agnes pleaded. 


112 


A NEW WOMAN 


‘‘A true American doesn’t amount to anything in 
the eyes of the American women.” 

“I don’t know the kind of women you have been 
brought in contact with, but I know they have not 
been of my stamp,” Helen said decidedly. 

“I hope you will prove your patriotism in deeds,” 
Joe said, somewhat mollified. He was forgetting his 
game, it seemed. “Let’s walk out to the gate, Miss 
Herman, and watch for the carriage. You will have 
plenty of time to run back without being seen.” 

“Oh, Helen, don’t go; you will get your dress 
mussed and your flowers all every way, ’’Agnes said. 

But Helen went. The house stood quite a distance 
back from the road and the walk and the excitement 
brought the color to her cheeks and a brilliancy to 
her eyes. Joe thought her magnificent and said gal- 
lantly, “What if the roses at your throat are wilted? 
they are fresh enough in your cheeks, and such beau- 
tiful eyes; by heaven!” 

“Yes, indeed,” Helen said with affected earnest- 
ness which completely dumfounded Joe. 

“You can’t make fun of me,” he stammered. 

“Nor you of me. ” 

“Oh, confound it, Miss Herman, I don’t under- 
stand you at all.” 

“Well, I don’t understand you.” 

“How? What? Explain yourself.” 

“Why, you are a bright, generous, whole-souled 
boy, who, from a mistaken idea of gallantry, has started 
on the road to moral ruin by being insincere.” 

“By Jove, Miss Herman, you’re an oddity. I 
thought women liked flattery. ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


113 


‘‘We like honest praise from honest hearts, but 
detest flippant compliments.” 

“By Jings, I do like yon, Helen.” 

“There, Joe, well said; you meant that. And I 
like you, for I know the conventional veneer isn’t 
very thick on you and you really enjoy being sincere. ” 

“Oh, Lord, yes,” Joe said fervently. “Hark, take 
to your legs, the carriage is nearly here.” 

Joe shook hands with the guests at the gate, and, 
together with his father, escorted them into the 
house. As they entered the parlor, Mrs. Daniels and 
Agnes went forward to meet them, while Helen stood 
in the background. Her heart fluttered strangely, 
for after all a man is a man, whether an American 
or not. Here Helen was brought forward to meet 
them and say her little speech. 

The Englishmen could scarcely refrain from inter- 
changing looks, for all three of the women wore the 
white ribbon. Lucky it was that Helen had not 
worn the badge of yellow. Her supply had been too 
soiled for her costume and Agnes had had none to 
replace it. It was an awkward moment, and after 
they were all seated, it was worse. 

Our congressman cudgeled his brains for a topic 
that would be suitable to all, but in vain. Had he 
been alone with them he could have sprung American 
politics, “our securities abroad” or some such sub- 
ject, but it was obviously out of place on this occa- 
sion. Finally Joe asked if they had had a pleasant 
voyage, which started a conversation which hung on 
in some sort of fashion until supper was announced. 

When asked whicli he and his friend preferred. 


114 


A NEW WOMAN 


cards or dancing, his lordshii^ inquired what Ameri- 
c in ladies played. 

“Oh, they don’t play baccarat, but they are often 
quite good at whist or pedro.” Joe had gotten it 
into his head that baccarat was the English national 
game. 

“There are hardly enough of us to dance,” his 
lordship ventured, utterly ignoring Joe’s remark. 

“But we can waltz. Your Lordship is a good 
waltzer and Miss Herman wants to learn, don’t you, 
Helen?” Agnes said. 

“Oh, yes, indeed.” So Agnes played and his 
lordship led Helen forth. The host engaged Sir 
Alfred in conversation and poor Joe was left to him- 
self. He turned the photograj^hs and fumbled with 
some books, feeling altogether disgusted and miser- 
able. Helen had been very nice to him all evening 
and he had felt much elated until she evinced such 
a readiness to dance with his lordship. “I can waltz 
as well as he, but she never offered to learn of me,” 
he said to himself. It was all right for him and his 
father to lay the plot, but for the girls to walk into 
it so readily was strange, he thought. He wasn’t so 
much surprised at Agnes, for he understood her feel- 
ing for George Sanderson, but for Helen, such a girl 
as Helen Herman, to be so delighted with the hom- 
age of a foreigner was hard to understand. 

“It must be that such hair and mustache are fatal 
when such a girl succumbs,” he concluded. Joe was 
secretly envious of his lordship’s attractiveness, es- 
pecially of the mustache. 

When the evening was over and all had gone to 
their rooms, Agnes went and tapped at Joe’s door 


A NEW WOMAN 


115 


“What is it, sis?” he said upon opening the door. 

“Oh, nothing. I just thought I’d drop in a little 
while.” 

“Well, I was just thinking of dropping into bed, 
but sit down. I’m not sleepy. By Jove, how w^ell Miss 
Herman looked to-night! and she seemed to be flat- 
tered by that — ” 

“His lordship’s attentions,” Agnes said eagerly; 
“and he seems to be struck with her.” 

“He certainly w^asn’t struck blind. Englishmen 
do lack in deljcacy. ” 

“Oh, Joe, foreigners are as good as our own coun- 
trymen. One always has a weakness for one’s own 
country, but after all, a man’s a man wherever he is.” 

“And a jackass is a jackass wherever he is, and 
that’s his lordship every time; but patriotism isn’t 
patriotism when it w'ants to swell in with some other 
country. She talks patriotic enough and I’d formed 
a great opinion of her, but I’m cooked now. She 
didn’t don pink silk for us. Oh, she’ll prove herself 
as conceited and as — as — ambitious, as they call it, 
as anybody, after all. Yes, I am satisfied that she 
will prove to be utterly devoid of patriotism, sense 
and everything else; she’s just an empty shell.” 

“Oh, shame upon you! She’s just the best girl I 
ever knew. I know she is a little queer on religion 
and politics, but she has got a good big heart and 
she would do anything for a friend.” 

“Oh, yes. She’s sharp enough to take ^mu in.” 

“I can’t bear to hear you talk so about her. You 
don’t know her as I do. She is going to — to — ” 

“Well, to what?” 

“Why, she’s going to — to — ” 


116 


A NEW WOMAN 


“For God’s sake Agnes, can’t you talk?” 

“Well, you know I don’t want to marry his lord- 
ship,and she is going to llirt with him and give me a 
chance to break the engagement. Oh, Joe, she is 
going to marry him so I won’t have to.” 

“What a martyr she is!” 

“I hope not, Joe; I hope she will fall in love with 
him, and I know he will with her. She is so beau- 
tiful he scarcely took his eyes off her to-night.” 

“And did jmu tell her the secret of how to keep 
her face and arms white, that she is under such obli- 
gations to you?” 

“Why, don’t you remember the storm, Joe? I 
wrote papa all about it. I helped to save Helen’s 
life.” 

“That makes the thing a little different.” But 
Joe was still doubtful and vexed. Of course he had 
been fooled, he thought. It had seemed to him too 
strange to be true, that she should be what she pro- 
fessed — any girl that wouldn’t be mashed on that 
hair and mustache was simply a freak. 

Agnes reassured him concerning the import of 
Helen’s actions, and went to her room. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Helen was perhaps the only one of the party Avho 
was having a really good time. Here she was having 
opportunity to display all of her many phases. Wlion 
in a careless mood she flirted with his lordship; when 


A NEW WOMAN 


117 


thoughtful she talked religion and science with Sir 
Alfred; a patriotic mood brought her to talk politics 
with the congressman; and wdien burning with am- 
bition she found a congenial spirit in Joe, who, while 
often disagreeing with her, still liked her comrade- 
ship. 

At first Sir Alfred was awfully bored. He thought 
Agnes a sweet, modest little woman, as became her, 
but she was supposed to be his friend’s special com- 
panion. He liked Mrs. Daniels, approved of her 
care of the young ladies and the house. Now, Mrs. 
Daniels was a hygienist, very particular about diet 
and clothing; Avas always looking after the health of 
the household ; saw that the girls didn’t put on freshly 
ironed linen nor eat bet.Aveen meals; attended to the 
ventilation yet never allowed, a draught. In short, 
she was one of those women who have a bad stomach 
and a vivid imagination, and having to regulate her 
own diet, she simply couldn’t see hoAV any one could 
live and eat anything and everything. But Sir Alfred 
saw only that she was careful and prudent. One 
afternoon the young people, wdth the exception of 
his lordship, w^ere seated in the shade upon the lawn. 
That personage, thrown upon his own resources in 
the matter of making himself presentable, consumed 
a good deal of time and experienced a good deal of 
trouble with his toilet; and at this time was strug- 
gling to decide which would be most becoming, a 
pale pink or a creamy white necktie. 

“I don’t object to suffrage so very much,” Sir 
Alfred was saying, “but with suffrage comes woman 
politicians, lawyers, doctors, preachers, lecturers, 
usurpers of man’s sphere.” 


118 


A NEW WOMAN 


“The world is progressing, ” Helen said calmly. 

“Yes, the worhi is going — going — mad.” 

“Sir Alfred, yon, like thousands of others, under- 
stand that the world is running in a strange way, 
but cannot see the cause. We are going with the 
current, after a phantom, and though it is but a 
phantom, we could not turn back if we would. The 
current grows stronger and more rapid; some are 
floating idly, carelessly along, bravely butfeting tlie 
waves, but the greater number are grabbing, crying, 
cursing, sinking or rising by pushing others under. 
There is not room for all; the banks are narrowing; 
an eddy starts in the center; we reel as if drunken, 
we speed round, dizzy, breathless, faint, exhausted; 
none have gained, all have lost. And that phantom 
is wealth and power.” 

“Yes, that is true. But the .women are largeiy 
responsible for the condition of things; if they would 
keep to the shore and leave the men to struggle with 
the current, why — ” 

“What is to be will be. If you would study the 
Bible, you would see that the world is in just the 
condition that Christ spoke of as the time of the end. ” 
Here, as if to contradict in living, glowing colors, 
Helen’s dark prophecy, his lordship appeared on the 
scene fresh as a new blown rose and certainly more 
fragrant, a happy, careless smile on his handsome face. 
Upon seeing him advance toward them, Sir Alfred 
began to gently swing the hammock Helen was oc- 
cupying, reconciling the action with the thought 
that it wasn’t best for his friend to pay too much 
attention to one girl when betrothed to another. Con- 


A NEW WOMAN 


119 


tinuing the conversation, though in a gayer manner, 
he said, “Look here. Miss Herman, you’re always 
quoting Scripture to prove your theories, and yet you 
don’t believe much that’s in the Bible; old-fashioned 
hell and other things that are as plain as can be. 
Your belief is nothing but a theory that, like any 
other one, can be either proved or disproved by the 
Bible.” 

“I know it is but a theory. I wouldn’t give two 
cents for a person without a theory; but the thing 
of it is, which theory is the most reasonable.” 

“Your argument sounds very reasonable. Miss Her- 
man,” his lordship, who had been listening a few 
seconds, said, “but now let us try some of God’s pure 
air and sunshine. What do you say to a race on the 
wheels?” 

“Capital,” Helen said, rising and excusing herself. 
A few moments later they were skimming down the 
smooth road. Helen wore her gymnasium costume, 
but his lordship either didn’t notice it or he didn’t 
care. 

“How I do enjoy bicycling!” she said. 

“So do I when I have good company, ”he returned, 
guiding his wheel a little nearer her. Agnes had 
casually told him of Helen’s three millions, and this, 
coupled with Helen’s charming personnel, was rapidly 
getting away with his lordship. He calculated in 
his quiet moments to simply flirt with her as was 
his wont with any young woman, but her power over 
him when they were together made his speech a 
queer mixture of flattery and sincerity. 

“And I’m certainly enjoying this ride,” he con- 


120 


A NEW WOMAN 


tiimed. “The exercise brings roses to your cheeks 
and your eyes are like stairs.” 

“Oh, Your Lordship thinks he can flatter an in- 
nocent country girl.” 

“Ton my honor, no. Your innocence only makes 
you that much more lovely in the sight of a genthj- 
man. It’s rarely we meet with such charming sim- 
plicity; and a man whose every breath you might 
say has been drawn in society’s hot-house, knows 
how to appreciate that nature which is yet untainted.” 

Helen’s face was turned away. She felt an almost 
uncontrollable desire to call him a fool, but, remem- 
bering her part, she turned her face toward him, 
beaming with the most vacant smile she could muster. 

“My Lord has no idea how much I appreciate his 
candid expression of regard for me.” 

“A man would be a brute who would deceive- such 
innocence as yours.” They rode in silence for a few 
minutes and then he asked her if she had ever been 
to England. 

“No,” she answered, “I’ve never traveled, even in 
my own country. I’ve been in school nearly all of 
my life; and I’m an orphan, and friendless girls like 
myself have so little chance to go about.” 

“But an orphan girl can find a protector in a hus- 
band as well as a girl blessed with parents.” 

“Well, I’ve never been fortunate or unfortunate 
enough to. But we are a long distance from home. 
Hadn’t we better turn back?” And during the re- 
mainder of the trip Helen adroitly kept the conversa- 
tion upon the topic of scenery, allowing nothing but 
the lightest sort of flirtation. 


A NEW WOMAN 


121 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

Helen boasted the understanding of a vast num- 
ber of subjects, but she was beginning to wonder if 
she understood herself. Her whole life had been 
spent in dreams of ambition, of glory, and she had 
always looked upon society as the amusement of fools 
and of course not for her. She had never known but 
two people with whom she could really affiliate, 
Cleon ice and an old man, a recluse scholar in her 
own home, until now, when she found the society of 
each one of the party enjoyable. She liked the light, 
frivolous nature of Lord Avon, when he talked of 
something other than herself, and even his adoration 
of her, which was becoming evident to everybody, 
interested her when she thought how well her scheme 
w'as working. She liked to slip into the library when 
the host was at home and tease him on politics until 
he would put her out bodily and lock the door. And 
Sir Alfred — well, she never feigned headache when 
he asked her to walk or ride, nor ever overslept when 
challenged by him to a six o’clock game of croquet. 
But it was with Joe that she felt most like herself. 
After they had had a long confidential talk about 
their ambitions, she would feel herself equal to an}^- 
thing; and in her own room would sing, dance, de- 
claim and execute high tragedy with even more than 
her old-time gusto. Upon one such occasion as she 
was reciting her favorite portion of the Iliad, where 
the haughty Atrides demands Achilles to surrender 
Briseis, it popped into her head to dramatize the Iliad. 


122 


. A NEW WOMAN 


“And I mustn’t moon much longer,” she said aloud, 
and fell to calculating how much longer it would 
take to effect Agnes’ release. She felt provoked at 
herself for entering into such an agreement. “Wast- 
ing time when I know my power. My teacher assured 
me that I had ‘the voice that all modes of passion 
could express,’ and I can, oh, I can — ” here her 
thoughts became too ecstatic for utterance as she 
again indulged in the ambitious dreams of the nat- 
ural actor. 

“I’ll look for a position right away and go as soon 
as I can. It’s pleasant here, but it’s too enervating, ” 
she had decided, when happening to look out of the 
window she saw Sir Alfred sitting alone on the lawn. 
Recalling an interrupted conversation on Darwin- 
ism in which she had not time to make herself clear, 
she, after rearranging her hair and donning fresh 
flowers, joined him. 

At that moment Agnes was giving her aunt, who 
was subject to a nervous dizzy headache, an ice water 
treatment. “Wouldn’t it be nice, Agnes,” said Mrs. 
Daniels, as she saw Sir Alfred rise to give Helen the 
hammock, “if they would fall in love?” 

“Oh, Auntie, do you think they will?” Agnes asked, 
trying to conceal her anxiety. 

“There is a possibility,” Mrs. Daniels returned 
complacently. “He is a very fine man and it would 
be very fortunate for her to get any one of his age and 
judgment. She is attractive and sensible in some 
ways, but is young and has never had the care of a 
mother. I do wish she would wear a night-cap; can’t 
you persuade her to? Jennie says she draws her bed 


A NEW WOMAN 


123 


right up to the window and sleeps with her head 
against the screen ; why slie doesn’t catch her death 
of cold, I can’t see. Girls are so imprudent.” 

“But he is so much older,” Agnes remonstrated. 

“Yes, but when men reach his age, unmarried, they 
nearly always marry young women, which isn’t al- 
ways prudent in the man, but very fortunate for the 
girl. I think if there is anything disgusting, it’s to 
see very young people marry, for what do they know 
about taking care of children or living on their in- 
come? But Sir Alfred and his lordship are about the 
same age, I should judge, and Helen is older than 
you. Have you decided about your dress yet?” 

“No, not yet. Please don’t worry about it; there 
is plenty of time. If your head is better. Auntie, I 
believe I will go out in the open air.” 

“Go on, dear, but throw something light over your 
shoulders and take something to Helen. That great 
maple throws such a shade that it is positively chilly 
under it.” 

Agnes, whose anxiety was increased by seeing Sir 
Alfred gently swinging the hammock, was glad of 
this excuse to break up the tete-a-tete; so, picking 
up a cashmere shawl for herself and a flimsy lace 
scarf for Helen, she joined them only to find them ar- 
guing upon evolution. 

“But Darwin demonstrates everything so clearly,” 
Sir Alfred was saying. 

“Yes, I know he does, and I can readily see how 
a skeptical person would accept his theory unques- 
tioned. ” 

“But he has left no room for question.” 


124 


A NEW WOMAN 


“No, not if one accei)ts his premise. But the idea 
that everything started from one of four forms of life 
is absurd to me. Now, a thousand primary forms, are 
as easy to supi^ose as four or just one. Don’t you 
think he begs the question?” 

“Then you think Darwin and Wallace spent their 
whole lives concocting an illogical theory?” 

“I think if we study the Bible we find something 
much more simple, reasonable and that which satis- 
fies the heart.” 

“But there is as great, yes, greater diversity of 
opinions in regard to Bible teachings than there are 
differences among scientists.” 

Sir Alfred knew nothing about the Bible and really 
cared nothing about Darwinism, but he availed him- 
self of every opportunity to talk with Helen on any 
subject. 

“But one can’t estimate the worth of the Bible 
from simply an intellectual standpoint,” she re- 
joined. “Its truths must be experienced, just as we 
put our arithmetical training into practice to under- 
stand it fully. Fractions nearly drove me crazy when 
a child; they were simply inexplicable until I was 
sent marketing; and geometry and surveying are 
misty to me yet, just because I can’t go out with 
tripod and chain. When one looks about and notes 
how man is conquering everything and making even 
electricity serve his purpose, and especially when an 
individual studies his own abilities and powers, he 
sees that it is true that God placed him at the head 
of his creation to have dominion over all things. 
Yet there are some who believe, or profess to believe. 


A NEW WOMAN 


125 


that man came up from amcBbm. Truly ‘they strain 
at a gnat and swallow a camel. ’ But then it is the 
easiest thing in the world to be skeptical. I used to 
be.” Sir Alfred smiled. “But I was finally con- 
vinced, not by scholarly argument nor in a revival 
meeting — ” Here Helen paused 

“But how were you convinced?” Sir Alfred asked. 

“Such incidents have been related in the pulpit 
until people have grown to think lightly of them, 
but this I saw with my own eyes and not only that, 
but felt it in my soul.” Helen’s manner was so 
earnest and her voice so low and clear, that her 
listeners were deeply moved. “I once stood by 
the deathbed of a young and beautiful girl, and 
just a few moments before she died her pale, wan face 
became so strangely radiant, her eyes so luminous 
and wondrously beautiful, that we stood breathless 
with expectation. Well, I can not describe; it is 
beyond words. The skeptic might say it was the last 
effort of nature, just as the candle will blaze up just 
before it goes out, but we who stood beside her real- 
ized that we looked upon the soul’s awakening.” 


CHAPTER XXX. 

Sir Alfred found himself strangely attracted to 
Helen. Her variegated nature was an ever-increas- 
ing wonder and delight to him who had grown dis- 
trustful of nearly everything. But 

“ The thickest ice that ever froze 
Can only o’er the surface close, 

The quickening stream still flows beneath,” 


126 


A NEW WOMAN 


He began to think that there were women in the 
world, who, if not of the trusting, confiding, Alice 
Darvil sort, were yet true women with pure, noble 
sentiments. Yet, while he admired Helen in her 
argumentative moods, ’twas in her lighter role that 
he most loved her. And his lordship was fairly dis- 
tracted. Three million dollars that could be had for 
the asking, and a lovely girl thrown in; an orphan, 
too, without a brother to treat him half disdain- 
fully, or a father to suspect him of being a fortune 
hunter and a libertine 1 But his environment aggra- 
vated him awfully. Of course he could not claim 
any of Helen’s time, but just had to trust to happy 
intervals and lucky chance; and such weire all too 
rare, even when he was ready to improve them. Oh, 
how he missed Adams I for looking after his clothes, 
going every morning to the village to be shaved, and 
struggling before the mirror to make himself pre- 
sentable, took so much time that he felt himself not 
“in it” like the others; he was jealous of Sir Alfred, 
jealous of the supercilious Joe, and even jealous of 
his genial host. 

One day when he was trying with nervous fingers to 
girt his snow-white trousers to just the right length, 
he heard Helen’s laughter and Sir Alfred’s voice 
below. He gave way to profuse perspiration and red- 
hot regrets. Something of relief came to him, how- 
ever, when he ascertained that the whole household, 
including Mrs. Daniels, with head bundled up, se- 
cure against a possible draught, were upon the 
lawn. 

“The day of flowery oratory is past, ” the con- 
gressman was saying. 


A NEW WOMAN 


127 


“Yes, we have come to the day and age of the 
world when things must be said and done simply and 
quickly,” Sir Alfred rejoined. 

“And the man who soars on the pinions of the 
wind is a dolt,” interposed Joe. 

“I don’t agree with any of you,” Helen said. She 
always wanted to have her say. “We don’t admire 
the simple things of life; it’s the display, the splen- 
dor, the pageantry ; that which delights the senses. 
We admire the smooth, prepossessing rascal more 
than a common every-day villain. Now, don’t we?” 

“It isn’t the villain, but his graces that charm 
us,” Agnes said, half timidly. 

“But all of our best writers, whether of prose or 
of poetry, have soared in imagery and flowery lan- 
guage. Look at the Iliad, the grandest of all poetry; 
reduce it to simple language and would it appeal to 
us as it does now? Take some of Byron’s poetry, for 
instance this : 

“ ‘Thou glorious mirror! where the Almighty’s form 
Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time 
Calm or convulsed — in breeze or gale or storm, 

Icing the polo or in the torrid clime, 

Dark, heaving, boundless, endless and sublime. 

The image of eternity — the throne 
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime 
The monsters of the deep are made; each one 
Obeys thee— thou goest forth, dread,fathomless, alone.’ 

Reduce that to simple language and see if it means 
the same. ” 

“But that is poetry,” our congressman said. 

“Yes, and I don’t like to hear anything said in a 
plain way that can be rendered poetically. Our lives 


128 


A NEW WOMAN 


are too prosy. I think we would do well to cultivate 
poetry in both thought and speech.” 

‘‘You are right in one way, Miss Herman,” the 
host answered. “We are not exactly prosy, but we 
lack sentiment. Sentiment is dubbed ‘gush’ to-day. 
Oh, the whole world is wrong somewhere. There’s 
a mighty big screw loose somewhere, and the maciiin- 
ery is rattling away at a terrible speed. The world 
is — ” Here he looked at his watch, sprang up sud- 
denly, and taking Joe to one side whispered, “Jump 
on your wheel, Joe, and hurry to town; the market 
closed fifteen minutes ago. Be quick; I’ll stand 
here at the gate. ” 

Here Mrs. Daniels, seeing a chance to leave Helen 
and Sir Alfred together, arose and went into the 
house, and a moment later called the reluctant Ag- 
nes. Poor Lord Avon, who had just succeeded in 
getting one trouser leg just right, must yet fix tlie 
other one and arrange his tie! How could he know 
that they were talking only economics? 

“It’s a very difficult question,” continued Helen. 
“The wrong is in our hearts; we are hard-hearted 
and selfish.” 

“Because a man occupies himself in making money, 
looking after his financial affairs, he is hard-hearted 
and selfish, is he? And yet I‘ve heard you say you 
despise a lazy fellow, me, for instance,” Sir Alfred 
said, smiling, but watching her face. 

“I don’t like to see a man. put his every thought 
and energy into making a fortune. He ought to 
think some upon other things, I don't care what, but 
something that will mark Jiim as a man with tlioughts 


A NEW WOMAN 


129 


and feelings. I despise a man who is merely a ma- 
chine to make money.” 

“But we all bow down to the rich man.” 

“We do not. Maybe you do over in England, but 
it is not so here in Democratic America. Our rich 
men are just now being censured for reducing the 
wages of their employees.” 

“It is common in all countries for a man to hire 
cheap labor.” 

“Yes, I know that. We will pay a dollar if we 
must, but will get the same work done for twenty- 
five cents if possible. And yet the conditions of the 
late strikers is comfort itself compared with other 
classes, — the women employed in sweaters’ estab- 
lishments and the children in the crowded factories. ” 

“Well, Miss Herman, we must take into consider- 
ation the worth of these laborers. Isn’t it the truth 
that merit wins? These people are mere machines. 
If they were worth more they would rise higher. 
Isn’t it true that a bright boy will begin work as 
an office boy and rise to be a member of the firm? 
You see he has true worth, and makes himself in- 
dispensable to his employers. But these poor, mis- 
erable wretches of whom you speak, must either live 
and die on the pittances they receive or rise and 
prove themselves worthy.” 

“It is like placing a man in a skiff in the middle 
of the Pacific, and expecting him to get to shore. One 
out of a million might succeed, but starvation, the 
hurricane, and torture and death at the hands of 
savages, would be the common fate. Sir Alfred, you 
are a scholar, — a well-read man. Is it possible that 


130 


A NEW WOMAN 


you are blind to the conditions as they are to-day? 
Can’t you see the signs of the times point to some- 
thing — to the last great day when Christ’s Kingdom 
shall be set up on earth?” Helen said in deep ear- 
nestness, but seeing a faint smile flickering over the 
face of her companion, she leaned back, clasped her 
hands above her head and defiantly said, “Laugh 
right out. Sir Alfred, I don’t mind it at all.” 

“Thank you for according me the privilege, but I 
don’t care to take advantage of it. You see a man 
of my age has heard all sorts of theories for the re- 
demption of the human race. There are all sorts of 
enthusiasts, but you are the first young woman I’ve 
ever known to go so deeply, and I must say, with 
such sincerity of purpose, into such schemes. I’ve 
heard middle-aged and old women, and disappointed 
men talk such things; one of their favorite notions 
being to divide up the wealth into equal portions. 
But the time has never been, and I think never will 
be, when men will be dictated to as to how they will 
spend their money, or as to what they will do with 
their own possessions.” 

“That idea has not held good in the past.” 

“How so?” 

“Why, England once owned the American colonies, 
but she failed to do as she pleased with them. I should 
think that an immortal precedent.” 

“That was a great political question.” 

“But so is the capital and labor question becoming 
national, yes, an international question. Just as 
negro slavery was put down, so will the bondage of 
the white laborers he taken in liand and abolished.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


131 


Sir Alfred floundered and positively blushed. No 
man likes to be beaten by a woman. But Sir Alfred 
would not acknowledge himself beaten, even to him- 
self, and, feeling rather short of off-hand arguments, 
he sought to side-track the discussion by remarking in 
a careless way, “Well, I don’t care to worry myself 
about it; I’ll leave it to older and wiser heads than 
mine.” 

Helen understood the insinuation. It raised her 
temper and she wanted to stab back. “I am very 
sure that the cause will never miss you,” she said 
sweetly. 

Sir Alfred writhed inwardly. It was strange to 
him how the words of this little girl, as he had first 
considered her, could affect him. But a moment 
since he had thrilled with pride that she had con- 
sidered him scholarly, and now his heart ached. And 
here, to add to his misery, his lordship, fresh and 
handsome, came upon the scene and took Helen for 
a ride. 

“Do )’^ou know yet where they are going to take us 
for the summer?” Helen asked, as they wheeled 
along. 

“No; I think, though, it will be Saratoga. Are 
you getting tired of the country? You are certainly 
not as happy as I am or you would not even hint 
at such a thing. ” 

“Oh, I am happy here. They are all so kind. Mrs. 
Daniels takes the liveliest interest in me, health and 
all ; Agnes is like a sister, Mr. Easton is like a father; 
Joe is devoted and your friend is very nice to me.” 

“And hfiven’t you one poor little word for me?” 


182 


A NEW WOMAN 


His lordship asked dejectedly. And Helen, recalling 
his gifts of bon-bons, his little polite services, and 
also remembering her part, said, “I didn’t say any- 
thing in praise of you, my lord, because I simply 
can’t express my thanks to you in words — oh, I mean 
I can’t express my thanks at all,” she quickly ex- 
plained, feeling a little guilty. “But I’m in for it; 
I don’t have to marry him and it’s for Agnes’ wel- 
fare,” she said mentally. “I wish I could show my 
admiration for you in either words or acts.” 

His lordship sighed. Gay, good-natured Lord 
Avon was quite upset. “Dear Miss Herman, I was 
grieved at you the other day; I really was, but per- 
haps I misunderstood you. One so just and good 
and noble as you could not believe such a thing.” 

“Why, what was it?” 

“You were talking with the young Mr. Easton. I 
wasn’t eavesdropping, but I thought I heard you 
declare against the marriage of your countrymen 
with foreigners. Why, I think all homage is due 
the American woman who leaves all, her country, 
her parents and friends, to follow the man of her 
choice to Spain, to Prance, to dear old England. 
I hope you are not like the woman who said that she 
could be convinced, but she’d like to see the man 
who could convince her.” 

Conquering her disgust she ventured, “I have never 
yet met the man who cared to trouble himself enough 
about me, to try to convince me.” 

His lordship was almost desperate; he talked about 
‘merciless fate’ and groaned audibly. Helen was 
greatly relieved at their nearing home, which caused 
his lordship to regain his composure. 


A NEW WOMAN 


188 


That night Agnes followed Helen to her room. 
When the door was closed and they were alone Agnes 
threw h(M* arms around her friend’s neck and ex- 
claimed, “Bless your dear heart, you are a friend 
indeed; and if I were at all in love I should -be furi- 
ously jealous. I am going to give back this ring to- 
morrow. He adores you; oh, Helen; I’m almost 
ashamed to say so, but he never treated me one-half 
so nice as he does you. I could almost believe he 
never did care for me, and yet he must have; oh, I 
can’t understand it all. ” 

“Do you know where we are going for the sum- 
mer?” 

“No, papa will decide in a day or two. For my 
part I don’t care much where we go, but Aunt Kate 
thinks the water at Saratoga beneficial. I’ll just 
tell you the truth, Helen; I like fun and want to 
have a good time, but Saratoga is a bad place. Why, 
nearly everybody drinks and gambles, and you mix 
with everybody, good, bad and indifferent; you must 
sit at tables with women you would not speak to at 
home. ” 

“I know it isn’t pleasant, but that’s the very place 
to set an example.” 

“You might as well throw a reed into the Missis- 
sippi to obstruct its progress. And you can scarcely 
brace yourself, much less tower in strength. I tell 
you the wickedness is positively contagious.” 

“Will your father be there with us?” 

“I hope so, at least for a part of the time. Isn’t 
it awful that congress must be in session all sum- 
mer?” 


184 


A NEW WOMAN 


“It’s awful that men of the same party, elected 
on the same ticket, will pull and haul in different 
directions, when they are honor bound to work for 
the same things. When women go to congress they’ll 
work for principle regardless of personal interests. 
Honestly, Agnes, don’t you ever wish that you could 
fill some office of public trust?” 

“No, not exactly. I think we have as good a chance 
to do good by using our influence in other things. 
I have sometimes thought I would like to be married 
and go to Saratoga to show other women , that one 
woman could think more of her own husband than 
of some other woman’s.” 

“That is right enough, Agnes, but every married 
woman can do that, and so few women hold offices 
of trust.” 

“Well, let women who are capable of holding 
office, and who wish to, do so, but as for me, I don’t 
crave any such distinction. It is different with you, 
Helen. I would like to see you happily married, as 
you surely will be soon, but still I think you capable 
of other things. I must go now and not keep you 
up any longer. ” 

A few minutes after she had gone, Helen received 
a note which read : 

“I challenge you to a game of croquet at half past 
six in the morning. Don’t fail me. Gates.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


185 


CHAPTER XXXL 

The next morning Helen awakened before six and 
rose immediately. More than once while she was 
dressing did she peep out from behind the shade, 
and it wasn’t long until she saw Sir Alfred emerge 
from the hall door and go toward the croquet ground. 
At fifteen minutes past six she was ready and sat 
down to read, but five minutes of time seemed an 
age, and so a little earlier than the appointed hour 
she joined him below. 

“Good morning, Miss Herman. So you concluded 
to give me a game, did you? I was awfully afraid 
you w'ould prefer to sleep.” 

“I will give you a chance for a game,” she said, as 
she took the mallet he held out to her. 

“That is all I w'ant, ” he returned, letting his hand 
slide down the handle and cover hers. Here this self- 
willed, ambitious young w^oman who thought love a 
weakness, blushed as red as the roses at her throat, 
stammered, but did not try to free her hand. “Would 
you like to have my mallet as well as your own?” 
she finally managed to say. 

“Oh, no.” he said, releasing her, and the game 
began. The conversation was a little strained at 
first, until they fell to talking about where the party 
would spend thd summer. 

“Miss Easton told me last night that she thought 
her father would decide this week. Lord Avon pre- 
fers New'port, but Mrs. Daniels would rather go to 
Saratoga. Nobody else seems to care.” 


136 


A NEW WOMAN 


‘‘Have you no preference?” he asked, and looked 
at her while he tried to send the ball through the 
basket. 

“I want to go where there will be the most good 
theaters.” 

“But there won’t be any theaters anywhere during 
the summer.” 

“What?” 

“There aren’t any theaters anywhere during the 
summer. ” 

“Why?” 

“All good players rest during the hot weather like 
other people. Sometimes a cheap troupe stays on 
the road, but the artists are olf recuperating.” 

“Then what on earth do people amuse themselves 
with at watering places?” 

“At Long Branch they bathe, go to church, play 
games and dance. At Newport they do the same, 
and at Saratoga they go to the races and bet instead 
of bathe, dance, drink, play games and llirt; at least 
I have heard so from my friend, who has visited all 
the principal summer resorts here. This is my first 
stay in America, and it was with reluctance that I 
agreed to come this time, but I’m glad now that I 
did; I wouldn’t have missed it fora fortune,” and 
he looked at her again and missed the stake. “So 
you haven’t gone about much, it seems.” 

“No, I’ve never been anywhere but in school. I’ve 
never heard any good actors.” 

“Several American artists are spending the season 
in England.” 

“Playing?” 


A NEW WOMAN 


137 


“No, just traveling and having a good time. They 
seem to prefer our society and scenery. American 
women like England.” 

“Yes, and not to their credit,” Helen said decid- 
edly, trying to be true to her ideas of patriotism. 

“How so?” 

“Why, it’s disgusting for Americans to spend half 
their time in other (Countries. I intend to travel, 
but I shall do my own country first, and return to it 
gladly after seeing the sights elsewhere. She’s faulty 
enough. Heaven knows, but she’s the very best of a 
bad lot.’’ 

“When do you intend to travel?” 

“Just as soon as I am of age and get control of my 
own property.” 

“And get a husband,” Sir Alfred said, missing 
the stake for the third time. 

“Yes.” 

Sir Alfred was nonplussed. His face grew very 
sober and he finally said, “Pardon me. Miss Her- 
man, but I was not aware that you were contemplat- 
ing matrimony.” 

“Well, I’m not and don’t intend to.” 

“I hope you are not of the class who are crying 
down matrimony.” 

“No, I’m not of that class, at least not that I 
know of, for I don’t know of any such, except as I 
read of them. But to-day woman’s chief aim is not 
marriage, as it used to be. We are taught to think of 
other things.” 

“Yes, they are being trained to stifle nature,” he 
almost snapped. “They are taught to make lorudent 


188 


A NEW WOMAN 


marriages, to look at the financial status of a suitor 
instead of at his mind and heart.” 

“It strikes me that a good many women are mar- 
ried to men who are bankrupt in every way. And 
from the number of divorces, one would judge that 
nature had been having its own way; people must 
have been listening to their hearts instead of being 
guided by common sense.” 

Helen’s sarcasm seemed insult added to injury and 
he broke into a series of expostulations that he would 
have readily seen to be illogical and inconsistent in 
any one else. “No, nature was all right in the first 
place; nature was all right; the heart was all right. 
They were led away by their ambitions; they go after 
your phantom riches and power, the two principal 
producers of corruption. True nature is all right 
after it has received its education and polish; it’s 
the counterfeit natures that are making the trouble. 
The rough and gross are being veneered and mixed 
in with the naturally refined. Fifty years ago things 
were not as they are to-da3\” 

“Haven’t I been telling you so all along? Things 
are coming to a climax and the ‘end is nigh, even 
at the doors!’ Oh, can’t you see? but no, ‘you have 
eyes, but you see not, ears and you hear not,’” Helen 
said hopelessly. 

“I’ve eyes that can see,and a heart that can feel,” 
he said, looking longingly at her. 

But Helen with the greatest indifference rolled her 
ball around and began a new game. Sir Alfred 
dropped his ball in place and struck it with such 
vengeance that it rolled clear through the central 


A NEW WOMAN 


139 


arches and struck the lower stake with a pop. ‘‘Ed- 
ucation is the ruin of the world instead of its re- 
demption. The higher education is responsible for 
the attitude of w'oinen toward marriages and has dis- 
satisfied her with home life.” 

“I know,” Helen said, her tone as sweet a^ sugared 
gooseberries, “I know there are some who honestly 
think that women should not receive the higher ed- 
ucation, but that we should spend our lives quietly 
within the four walls of home in perfect contentment. 
That may have been very well when men belonged 
to that order known as ‘Nature’s noblemen,’ but 
now when men are corrupt, from tramp to President, 
and when most of them shift the responsibility of 
making a living upon their wives, things are differ- 
ent. Somebody’s got to take hold of affairs and 
straighten them out. The poverty question is star- 
ing this nation in the face and the men won’t or 
can’t remedy the matter. Those in power won’t even 
consider it. The women must come to the front if 
our nation is to stand, and they must fit themselves 
for positions of trust and not enter into any ‘entan- 
gling alliances. ’” 

Sir Alfred was in a perfect rage. To be preached 
at like this when he was on the point of proposing! 
His face was flushed, and he played as if he wanted 
to smash everything, but Helen, perfectly calm, 
seeming not to notice his actions, stood waiting her 
turn. Just at this critical moment his lordship’s curls 
hove in sight. Helen’s face wreathed in smiles, and 
Sir Alfred, dropping his mallet, hurried to her, and 
said, “It is necessary for me to go to town this fore- 
noon. Would you care to bear me company?” 


140 


A NEW WOMAN 


Helen had maintained her ground so far with only 
one blush to prove that she was woman, and she 
determined to show no weakness at the last moment; 
so looking up, but not into his face, replied, ‘Hmust 
go to town this forenoon myself, as I have an ap- 
pointment with my dressmaker, but I promised his 
lordship last night that I would go with him.” 

“So I suppose you will devote the remainder of 
the day to him. ” 

“Oh, no, just the forenoon. I am going to the 
woods with Joe this afternoon, and you know our 
host arrives this evening.” 

“Good morning. Miss Herman. You folks are out 
fearfully early, aren’t you?” hailed his lordship. 

“Yes, I’ve just been giving your friend a lesson in 
croquet. It seems as if he doesn’t understand it very 
well.” 

“Neither do I; give me lessons. I like croquet 
because it can be played by two.” 

“Well, sometime, but we must go in to breakfast 
now.” ' 

In a short time his lordship, Helen and Agnes 
started to town, leaving Sir Alfred to either endure 
Joe or amuse himself. His lordship, while not really 
slighting Agnes, was so profusely gallant to Helen 
that both girls felt that the time to break had come, 
and Agnes began nerving herself for the ordeal. 

After dinner Joe brought out the wheels, and very 
important he felt as he led Helen past the English 
guests. 

“You have been away a good deal lately, I hardly 
ever see you,” said Helen. 


A NEW WOMAN 


141 


^‘Yes, but I’ll be at home most of the time from 
now on. Pa got the nomination, you know. I’ve 
been tending to his affairs.” 

“Will you work in the campaign?” 

“No, I will play host at the resort, and then will 
start to school.” 

“Why, I thought you graduated.” 

“Yes, but this is a law school. You know a poli- 
tician must be a lawyer.” 

“And should women politicians study law?” 

“It isn’t absolutely necessary ; but there are few 
members of congress who are not lawyers, nor hardly 
any public men, for that matter.” 

“Well, I shall read law, then, but I don’t intend 
spending three or four years more in school. I’ve 
made other plans.” 

“Do tell me what they are. I haven’t talked with 
you for so long that I expect you have revised them 
a good deal.” 

“I’ve been wanting to talk with you; you under- 
stand me so well. I’ve decided to go on the stage 
pretty soon — this fall if I can get a place; I’ll try 
the boards for a while, and then I am going to dram- 
atize the Iliad and start a company of my own.” 

“What’s that got to do with law?” Joe exclaimed. 

“Just wait. You know I will have my property 
in my owui hands soon, and I intend investing in 
land and starting a cooperative manufacturing in- 
dustry. Of course that will make me popular near 
liome. Then everybody will want to see the famous 
actress and the woman who dramatized the Iliad. I 
will get lots of free advertising and a race for con- 
gress will be easily made.” 


142 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Quite a brilliant career you’ve mapped, out for 
yourself. I think you’ll be a successful actress; you 
will probably become a star, unless you conclude to 
star in some nice fellow’s home.” 

“Now, you know, Joe, that I should be totally 
eclipsed moving in the domestic orbit. The Iliad can 
be dramatized; I’ve got it outlined already. Oh, it’s 
the very scheme.” 

“You may be all right about doing it and, as I 
said, you will probably succeed on the stage, unless 
you conclude to grace some lucky fellow’s home, but 
I think you’re a little wild on the political part.” 

“Joe, you make me mad. I wish you would un- 
derstand that I don’t intend to marry, even if I 
should be fool enough to fall in love. Why, I’d go 
and take the veil; I’d commit suicide, but good 
heavens, I hope I sha’n’t!” 

“I hope that there is no immediate cause for 
alarm,” Joe said, looking at her suspiciously. 
“You’re dead against the Englishmen, you know.” 

“Certainly. ” 

“Well, there’s onl}’- myself and pa left.” 

“There’s no danger there, Joe. There would be 
w^ar to the teeth if I married your father, with three 
in the same family fighting for the same honors,” 
Helen said, laughing, 

“Well, confound it, I don’t intend to many 
either.” 

“You are right, Joe. Don’t think me flighty. I’m 
in dead earnest about my public work. I think it 
the greatest place one can aspire to, to serve the peo- 
ple and be honored by your constituents. I tell you. 


A NEW WOMAN 


143 


Joe. it ought to mean more to men than it does. 
There never was siicli a need of statesmen. Our 
country is going to lose her proud prestige if brains 
and principle don’t come to the front.” 

“That’s the truth, Helen. We’re just going to 
the devil. Are you — You’re not mad, are you?” 

“Oh, no, Joe, I’m not a fool. I’ve known it for 
some time. We are just reveling, marrying, and 
giving in marriage, as the Bible says.” 

“You think we’re all coming back to this earth to 
live a thousand years. Now I’m in earnest and I 
hope 3mu won’t make fun of me nor tell anybody; 
but do you think we will be men and women, and 
talk and laugh and dance and ride pneumatic tires, 
just as we do now? Your doctrine is more reason- 
al)le than these orthodox mixtures.” 

“You are leading me into deep water, Joe. Of 
course I’m not just clear about that, but I know 
that I never could swallow this bosh about crowns 
and golden harps. I am sure, from the practicing I 
heard while at school, that I don’t care to go where 
there are so many amateur musicians.” 

Joe laughed outright, and the remainder of the trip 
was spent in jest and laughter. 

Agnes found her opportunity that afternoon, upon 
finding his lordship alone in the drawing-room. He 
looked guilty as she approached him with a strange 
look upon her face, for he knew himself open to re- 
proach. 

“Don’t you think Miss Herman a very nice girl?” 
she asked. 

“Oh, yes, indeed.” 


144 


A NEW WOMAN. 


‘^I’m SO glad you think so mucli. of her. ” 

“Yes, she is very nice and pretty.-’ His lordship 
didn’t want to commit himself, and he really felt con- 
science-stricken. What right had he to'neglect Ag- 
nes and break her poor little heart? he had thought 
many a time, and yet he simply couldn’t devote 
himself to her. 

“Pretty isn’t the word at all,” Agnes said. “She’s 
beautiful. Don’t you think you are a little bit in 
love?” 

Her companion sighed audibly and said, “ My poor 
little girl, I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble 
Don’t worry, Agnes, I’ll be true to you. I admire 
her very much, but — ” 

“Oh, I thought, I hoped you loved her,” Agnes 
said in despair. 

“Agnes, have you lost your mind? ‘Hoped I loved 
her,’ and why?” 

“Why, why, — well, never mind unless you do.” 

His lordship was in a dilemma and knew not what 
next to say. It didn’t strike him that Agnes didn’t 
w^nt to marry him. It would have been almost im- 
possible for him to understand that any woman could 
have such bad taste as to wish to be rid of him, 
I.ord Avon of — shire, England, who had one of the 
finest country seats and the very handsomest mus- 
tache in the whole country! 

“Did you think, Agnes, that I could so far forget 
myself as a gentleman of honor, as to — ” 

“I don’t know anything about that, but I thought 
you cared for her, and I hoped so, because, — because 
— the truth is, my lord, I had a sweetheart before I 
knew you.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


145 


He was surprised at her confession, but felt so re- 
lieved that he didn’t try to understand it. “Well, 
Agnes, I must be honest with you. I am smitten 
with Miss Herman and not lightly either. But I cer- 
tainly intended to be honorable with you.” 

“Don’t mention it, please. Here is your ring. I 
think a great deal of her and I like you and I hope 
she will accept you, but — my friend is very queer. 
There’s Sir Alfred in the hammock looking lonesome 
and blue; hadn’t we better join him?” 

A merry party surrounded the tea table that night, 
and it was decided by a majority vote, which was 
afterward made unanimous, to go within a few days 
to Saratoga. 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

That night when Helen had gone to her room she 
picked up the Iliad and began to turn through it. “I 
can do it. I have the debates just exactly as they 
are; I can have the single encounter in the field. 
The scenery can re^^resent the two armies, and the 
walls of Troy can be painted large enough. Yes, I’m 
sure I can, and I mustn’t think of nonsense,” she 
was saying, wlien a messenger lirought her another 
challenge to a game of croquet. “You didn’t give 
me a single game this morning,” the note ran, “and 
I want a chance to redeem myself in the morning at 
half past six.” Sir Alfred had made up his mind to 
piaq^ose and although he knew the hour to be a rather 


146 


A NEW WOMAN 


strange one, it was the only time he felt sure of be- 
ing alone with her. Helen decided not to meet him, 
so she went to bed with the determination to sleep 
until seven. The sun was just up when she aw'oke 
with a start, wondering what time it was. Drawing 
the curtain aside, she lay looking out over the beau- 
tiful lawn. But the minutes seemed tedious ; she be- 
gan to wonder if breakfast were not about ready, and 
finally arose and dressed. Upon looking at her 
watch she found it to be five minutes of six. “Well,” 
she said, “it won’t do for me to be awake and up 
and not go; if I had overslept — but I didn’t, so I 
mustn’t act a fool. I’ll take a book and read awhile; 
the morning will inspire me.” 

She went down far past the croquet ground and sat 
down on a bench where she could see the house, and 
began to read. She was quite a distance from the 
house and confident that no one could hear her, and 
she read poem after poem aloud. She had just fin- 
ished “Lochiel’s Warning,” which she had admired 
and practiced from childhood, when a voice said: 

“How well you read, Miss Herman!” 

“Good heavens, man!” she exclaimed, jumping 
up and dropping her book. 

“I am sorry I startled you. Why, you are nerv- 
ous,” he said tenderly. 

“Oh, nonsense. Sir Alfred! I’m not; you only 
surprised me. But how on earth did you manage to 
get near without my seeing you? I’ve kept my eyes 
on that path.” 

“So you were watching for me, were you?” Helen’s 
eyes fell, but she answered bravely, “Of course I was 


A NEW WOMAN 


147 


watching; do you suppose I came here to go to 
sleep again? And I’d just like to know how you got 
here. ” 

“Sui^pose, Miss Herman, that I came down that 
path nearly an hour before you did.” 

“Of course, the simplest thing in the world. But 
you must have gotten up very early.” 

“I did. I didn’t sleep very well.” 

“A guilt}^ conscience?” 

“Not unless it is true that minds at a distance 
can affect other minds. Maybe your conscience was 
troubling you for treating me so cruelly yesterday.” 

“I did treat you a little shabby,” she said calmly, 
but with rising color. “I’ll let you have a game this 
morning. But you said I was a good reader. I thank 
you; I consider it quite a compliment, and it en- 
courages me to — to — ” 

“To what?’ 

“Why, it confirms me in my hope to become a 
great actress Probably you don’t know, though, 
that I intend going on the stage, probably this fall, 
if I can secure a position in some good company.” 

“Oh, pshaw! But you will get over that. Nearly 
every girl is stage-struck some time in life.” 

This angered Helen and she replied with spirit, 
“Well, I shall have ample time to find out if I am 
stage struck, as you term it. I am my own mistress. ” 

“ ‘Lord of thyself; that heritage of woe, 

That fearful empire which the human breast 
But holds to rob the heart within of rest!’ ” 

he quoted. Helen said nothing to this, but stood 
biting the fingers of her gloves. 


148 


A NEW WOMAN 


“You are rich; you do not need employment.” 
Still she looked dov\:n her nose and continued to bite. 

“You are not serious, surely, Miss Herman.” 

“Yes, I am serious.” 

“But you are so young — scarcely more than a 
child.” 

“I’m not young; I never was a child. Orphan 
girls have no time to fool away in childhood; they 
have too much responsibility resting upon their shoul- 
ders. ” 

“I don’t know how it is in America, but in Eng- 
land girls of twenty are not allowed out of their 
mother’s sight; they are not considered women.” 

“That may be true. In this country some females 
of thirty are not women and never will be.” 

“Besides that, you are without relatives and 
friends. ” 

“And I don’t need any; I’ve gotten along so far 
without committing suicide or marrying.” 

“I suppose, then, the advice of a man of my age 
and experience is to be utterly ignored,” he said 
moodily. 

“You mean well, I know.” 

“Yes, Helen, I mean, I mean — ” 

“I know it. Sir Alfred, but if you are my friend 
you ought not to discourage me.” 

“But there are other things to be considered. I 
speak to you as a friend, as a brother. You might 
make an actress; indeed I think you would; you can 
adapt yourself to a great variety of parts, but one of 
your sex and age ought not to take such a risk.” 

“Why must young persons always be discouraged 


A NEW WOMAN 


149 


in their efforts to rise? A man wants to make a law- 
yer out of a boy who is a natural mechanic, or a 
doctor out of one who ought to teach. There’s a bit 
of poetry that expresses it: 

“ ‘You can lead a horse to Avater, 

But you cannot make him drink. 

You can send a fool to college, 

But you cannot make him think. 

You can keep your daughter strumming 
From morn till afternoon, 

Bnt you can’t make her a player 
If she hasn’t anytime. 

You cannot change the rooster’s strut 
Nor make the layers crow. 

Though you may honestly believe 
It would be better so. 

You cannot make a farmer 
Of the boy wdio loves the sea. 

Though you may make him ploAV and plant 
And whoa and haw and gee. 

You cannot make a preacher 
Of the stage-struck Romeo lad. 

And if you ei^er do succeed 
You’ll Avish you never had.’ ” 

“I knoAv it is a very common thing for persons to 
miss their calling, but Avhy should you trouble your- 
self about a ‘life Avork, ’ ‘a mission, ’ Avith your Avealth 
and the social position you can so admirably fill?” 

“I do not see that that excuses me in leading an 
idle life. ” , 

“But you might never rise to prominence. A AA^an- 
dering life makes one discontented Avith any other 
kind; and I tell you, Helen, that it Avill not bring 
you happiness, nor is it child’s play; it’s Avork. ” 

“Yes, I knoAv. ‘No excellence Avithout hard labor. ’ 
My teacher Avrote that on the blackboard when I was 


150 


A NEW WOMAJJ 


but ten years old, and it has stayed by me ever since. 
I intend to work; I enjoy effort and making things 
move.” 

Several times Sir Alfred had been on the point of 
confessing his love, but he had begun to wonder if 
he really wanted such a self-willed woman. Wouldn’t 
it be a second Corinne, in some respects, in England. 
Well, he would just wait and perhaps she would ac- 
quiesce, for he was almost sure that she had begun 
at least to care for him; and there was no hurry, as 
his lordship was affianced to Agnes, and Helen said 
‘Joe’ in much too fraternal a fashion to rouse any 
jealous feelings in regard to him. 

“The position you covet will always be out of your 
reach. Like John Burley’s perch; he wouldn’t have 
recognized it if he had caught it, but kept fishing 
and fishing.” 

“Well, are we not happier doing so?” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“How so?” 

“Why, you know my father. Lord Gates, is just 
as good a man as there is in England to-day. He 
worked with increasing energy for himself and then 
for me. At your age, I too was an enthusiast, only 
longing for a chance to revolutionize the world ! I 
worked with sublime endurance until I was twenty- 
eight years old. For some slight service to the gov- 
ernment I was knighted, but I didn’t see that I had 
made any change in the public’s way of thinking or 
acting; corruption was just as plentiful and triumph- 
ant as it was before I was born. I saw worthy men 
sink, and low-browed villains rise, and it sickened 


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151 


me completely, and I just stepped down and out.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you keep on; I should have. I 
can’t give up; there’s no use talking. I must make 
the trial, and if my strength should not be equal to 
the task, I can at least know that I did my best. So 
many women are going into the world to-day, and 
besides, it is only a means to an end.” 

“All right, go ahead.” 

“Thank you. Sir Alfred, I’m so glad to hear that. 
It’s so rare to be encouraged. I’m so tired of fogies 
w^ho can say nothing but ‘Be careful, ’ and talk of 
‘yawning chasms’ everlastingly.” 

Sir Alfred looked at this spirited woman, who act- 
ually dared to make fun of him, and concluded that 
she was even more magnificent than he thought. He 
wondered if she had any weaknesses, and wished that 
a mouse would run across her foot. If she would 
only get frightened and cry, she would be perfectly 
lovely, he thought, but when Helen grasped a branch 
just above her, and stood revealing her form in its 
almost perfect outlines, every muscle performing its 
functions, every nerve under control and the blood 
coursing through her veins with true democratic free- 
dom, his mood changed somewhat. “She would 
make a splendid Minerva; she’s wisdom — and war 
personified. She would make a splendid tragedy 
queen, if she were angry instead of smiling, but oh, 
what sort of a wife would she be? There’s no con- 
fiding sweetness about her. She’s never sick. I’ll 
w'arrant, nor dependent in anyway,” he mentally 
soliloquized, and then he asked her how much she 
weighed. 


152 


A NEW WOMAN 


‘‘One hundred and forty-five pounds, the last time 
I was weighed, and I think I have about got my 
growth. ” 

“How tall are you?” 

“Five feet and seven inches.” 

“I suppose you never faint and have the head- 
ache. ” 

“No, not from ordinary causes, but once in a 
storm I was shocked by lightning and had headache 
before I recovered.” 

“Then you are afraid of storms.” 

“Well, yes; I’m not anxious to figure in one 
again. ” 

“Are we going to play croquet?” 

“No, we’d better go to breakfast, unless you wish 
to ask some more questions.” 

“Pardon me. Miss Herman; but you looked so 
charming and as I always admired small women I 
really wanted to know.” 

“To be sure. I wasn’t offended. I always mean 
to be obliging, and I thought perhaps you would like 
to know if I use a curling iron or rouge.” 

“Miss Herman, you are offended and no wonder.” 

“I’m not; I’m wonderfully pleased that Sir Alfred 
Gates takes such an interest in me.” 

Was there ever such another aggravating woman ! 
She wouldn’t cry, nor get mad, nor pout; but would 
go after her own ball and excel him in aim and pre- 
cision of stroke. It was quite useless to play cro- 
quet or any larger game with her, for she’d whitewash 
him every time. He longed to take her by the shoul- 
der and shake her till her teeth chattered. 


A NEW WOMAN 


158 


Joe and his father were seated in the library await- 
ing breakfast. 

“I think it’s all up between Agnes and his curli- 
ness, even now,” Joe was saying. 

‘‘Oh, you do. Agnes will tell us, I suppose, and 
we must act surprised, you understand: and now we 
might try and save Helen.” 

“1 think she is amply able to save herself.” 

“Well, I hope so. His lordship is all right, a jo- 
vial, good-natured fellow, and such men are scarce in 
the world. We’ve more mere men than frank, good- 
natured ones. One ought to cultivate a genial dis- 
position. Why, the place is lively from the time he 
gets up until he goes to bed again. I tell you, after 
all, 1 like the fellow.” 

“He’ll do very well for one of his kind, but there 
are other varieties I like better,” Joe returned con- 
temptuously. 

The day passed pleasantly ; everybody was in good 
spirits; even Sir Alfred seemed to be perfectly at 
ease, which, however, deep down in his heart he was 
not. It was late when they dispersed for the night, 
but Helen seized the Iliad and began planning as 
usual. Growing thirsty, she slipped quietly down to 
tlie lower hall for a glass of ice-water. Hearing a 
slight noise in the dining hall and thinking that per- 
haps burglars were rilling the silver closet, she stepped 
to the door and peeped in, just in time to see Joe 
pour out a glass of wine. 

“Beware, Joe, ‘the rapids are below you,’” she 
said, stepping to him and laying her hand on his 
arm. 


154 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Don’t get tragic, Helen,” he said calmly, putting 
his glass down and turning toward her. “What are 
you doing here? You ought to be in bed.” 

“Why, I just came down for a glass of wine.” 

“You don’t drink, Helen?” 

“Yes, I do. I Just sneak down here when every- 
body is in bed. Pour me a glass and give me one 
of those cigars. I might just as well have a smoke, 
too; no one will know. 

“And you don’t think it makes any difference 
just because no one knows? 

“Don’t you feel the same way about it?” 

“You are a woman.” 

“Women drink, don’t they?” 

“Some do, but I had a better opinion of you, 
Helen.” 

“And I had a better opinion of you, Joe.” 

“Confound it, Helen, what do you mean?” 

“Tell me what you mean first.” 

“Why, I was sitting in my room thinking over the 
situation and it made me a little rash, I guess.” 

“What situation; is your father — ” 

“Oh, no; about the Englishmen; they drink and 
gamble, at least his importaiice does, while I haven’t 
a single vice and am trying hard to amount to some- 
thing, still — and yet. Miss Herman, Miss Herman, 
an American and a patriot, abhorring vice and titles, 
gives them all of her time and smiles. I just con- 
cluded that smart women admired dissipated men 
more than — ” 

“‘Earnest boys. ’ The rebuke is just, Joe. lam 
glad you spoke out without reserve. I used to think 


A NEW WOMAN 


155 


myself about perfect, but twice in the last year I’ve 
had my vanity stabbed and rightly, too. But I am 
going to do differently in the future, and you shall 
have no excuse to find fault with me hereafter. I 
hope that you won’t drink that wine.” 

“No, I won’t; but what did you come down for?” 

“For some ice-water, and I heard the noise and 
thought I had better see what it was.” 

“And just in time, Helen, I thank you,” and he 
opened the door for her to pass. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Everybody rose early on Monday morning and 
nearly everybody had some business at town, as they 
were going away on Wednesday. Lord Avon had to 
see if a half dozen pairs of white pantaloons which 
he had ordered had come. The girls, of course, were 
due at the dressmaker’s. Joe ostensibly had some 
business to attend to, but it was more to keep his 
eye on Helen than anything else, while Sir Alfred 
went just to fill in. Mrs. Daniels announced that 
she could not go until afternoon on account of some 
special work, she said. For she had discovered that 
a closet in Sir Alfred’s room needed renovating, and 
she intended removing his belongings to another 
room and making war on the microbes. The day was 
sultry and the young people nearly melted coming 
home. 

“It is just six weeks ago that we had the storm, 
Agnes,” Helen said. 


156 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Mercy, do you have storms around this part of 
the country?” his lordshi}) asked. 

“Why, yes; we have storms all over the country; 
no place is exempt,” Agnes said. 

“Dear me! Cyclones, railroad accidents and 
strikes — that is a fine record for a country no older 
than this. A man is never certain when he is on an 
American train whether he will ever get off alive or 
not; and he never knows when he goes to bed at 
night but that he’ll be carried to the moon before 
morning by a cyclone. If it were not for the ladies 
this country would be intolerable. How long do you 
realize that there is a storm coming before it breaks?” 

“Why, we generally begin to realize it when the 
roof commences ascending, and if we don’t find it 
out then we probably never will,” Joe volunteered, 
and then asked Helen if she were afraid of storms. 

“I’m afraid of thunder and lightning,” she re- 
plied. 

“Why, Joe, who is it living in that old Thornton 
place?” Agnes asked. 

“Nobody, I guess. ” But here they had reached 
home and gladly sought shelter from the awful heat. 
After dinner they sought the shade. His lordship 
drew his chair up beside Helen and began fanning 
her. Joe and Sir Alfred occupied themselves with 
the papers. Pretty soon Joe raised his eyes and said, 
“Agnes, that old Thornton place is taken. An old 
fortune-teller — Mother Bonnelly, I guess it’s pro- 
nounced.” Here Mrs. Daniels surprised everybody 
by dropping her sewing and turning pale. “What’s 
the matter?” they all asked. 


A NEW WOMAN 


157 


would advise all of you to keep away from her. 
She can see a grave ten years in the future,” and 
with this she arose and went quickly into the house. 
Everybody looked at everybody else, but nobody 
offered any information. His lordship, who was con- 
stitutionally opposed to gloom, said, “Now let’s not 
get the blues; maybe she can see orange blossoms as 
well as graves, and every lady wants to know — ” 

“The color of her lord’s hair,” Joe said. 

“How good of you to say for me what I couldn’t 
express from modesty and deference to the ladies! 
Of course they think senators as good as lords, that 
is, most women do, but still there are those who pre- 
fer a nobleman in England to a congressman at 
home.” 

“That’s true, but as for me, I prefer to patronize 
home industries,” Helen remarked, coming to Joe’s 
rescue. Here Sir Alfred lowered his paper and ad- 
dressed himself to the crowd. 

“You Americans make a great fuss about aristo- 
cratic forms of government. The only difference is 
that in this country, just as soon as a man loses 
office you kick him and walk over him, while you 
bow down to his successor until it becomes his turn 
to be cast down; but in England a man can’t be put 
down unless he actually deserves it; he’s something 
but mere popularity to assure his position. Oh, 
you’ve an aristocracy if it is kaleidoscopic; it’s lord 
there and senator here.” 

“‘A rose by another name,’ is all, Sir Alfred,” his 
lordship said. 

“‘A burr by any other name would stick as fast’ 


158 


A NEW WOMAN 


is a better version for that, isn’t it?” Helen asked 
archly. “What you say is partially true, but I think 
that patriotic women ought to prefer their country- 
men even if they are not quite perfect, having fol- 
lowed the example of older and more corrupt nations. ” 

Joe was delighted. Helen was a trump after all. 

“Oh, it shouldn’t make any difference to the wom- 
en; they ought to consult their own best interests,” 
said Sir Alfred. 

“ ‘ Lives there a man with soul so dead 
Who never to himself hath said 
This is my own, my native land?’ ” 

Helen said with a flourish. “But maybe you don’t 
credit woman with having a soul?” 

“Well, if she hadn’t I -suppose she could make 
man believe she had,” Sir Alfred said wearily. 
Helen’s eyes twinkled, and Joe looked so appreci- 
ative that she went over and sat by his side. Agnes 
had not told her that the engagement was off, but 
the absence of the ring indicated it, so she felt her- 
self free to be as partial to Joe as she liked. 

“Do keep your chair. Miss Herman, do, and I’ll 
just move the tree,” his lordship said. 

“I know you would; but wouldn’t you just as 
soon trade heads?” and they all laughed. 

“But what about the fortune-teller?” Agnes asked 
to relieve the embarrassment. 

“Why, Miss Easton, it’s a splendid chance to get 
our future diagnosed!” Sir Alfred said scornfully. 

“It’s so hot, it’s going to rain this evening and I 
must go and meet Pa as soon as the train’s in,” Joe 
said, rising. A few moments later Agnes excused 
herself. 


A NEW WOMAN 


159 


‘‘I tell you corn will go sky-high by fall, unless 
we have rain,” our congressman was saying as he 
rode along home with Joe. “The ground is as dry as 
brick and the crops are burning up in many districts. 
Oh, I’m going to hold on a while yet. I’m glad I’m 
rid of that fellow.” 

“And are we for sure?” 

“Yes, Aggie wrote me yesterday about it, got the 
Jetter yesterday just before I started. That’s a girl’s 
way; they think they can write what they can’t say; 
and I suppose she thought I wouldn’t like it. I tell 
you I never want to chance another Englishman ; the 
Board of Trade is as risky business as I want to try. 
I’ve made a few sly inquiries about him and, why, 
Joe, it would take twice our pile to pay his debts. 

I never would have consented in the first place if he 
hadn’t — oh, hell! he scared me about Snib and took 
me in with his d — d slick way. What’s that? Some- 
body in the Thornton house?” 

“Yes, I saw by the paper that an old woman who 
calls herself Mother Bonnelly — ” 

“What! that old hag alive yet?” 

“Why, what do you know about her?” 

“Oh, nothing much. Of course I don’t believe in 
such things, but she, if it is she, and the name is 
the same,- told your Aunt Kate’s fortune just before 
she was married. She told her that her husband 
would live but a couple of years, and you know he 
died just two years and one day after they v ere mar- 
ried. ” ^ 

“I knew that uncle had died before they were 
married very long, but I didn’t know it had been 


160 


A NEW WOMAN 


foretold. She was very much affected when Agnes 
read the advertisement. Agnes had been wondering 
who had taken the old place, ” Joe said, as they drove 
up to the gate. 

Agnes was missed at supper time and Mrs. Daniels, 
going in search of her, met her just as she was en- 
tering the hall with face flushed as if from rapid 
walking. “Where have you been? You had bet- 
ter cool off a little before eating.” 

“Oh, no, auntie, I’m not very warm; have just 
been down to the old orchard,” Agnes replied with 
affected carelessness. She sat down to the table and 
began to talk much more gayly than was usual with 
her. 

After supper they tried to play whist, but the in- 
terest flagged on account of the heat; so after a brief 
stay on the lawn they separated for the night. As 
they entered the hall Helen tripped, and in trying to 
keep from falling, her head was brought dangerously 
near Sir Alfred’s broad chest. It was nothing at all, 
but it sent the blood to her face; and he, noting it, 
tried to catch her eye, but she avoided it and ab- 
ruptly sought her room. She walked the floor and 
called herself a fool and finally threw herself on the 
bed, unmindful of the fact that she had not disrobed, 
and finally fell into a deep sleep. 

Sir Alfred sat in his room seeking solace in his 
cigar. He felt sleep to be out of the question. H 
he could only make her betray the least femininity; 
if she would only show the least dependence on him, 
or if he could anger her even, he was thinking. But 
no, she would walk majestically beside him, with 


A NEW WOMAN 


161 


just the tips of her fingers resting upon his sleeve, 
and return his taunts with such a sweetly sarcastic 
smile! So he smoked cigar after cigar and moved 
from window to window seeking composure and a 
cool spot, for the heat was almost insufferable. Vivid 
flashes of lightning revealed a dark and ominous 
cloud in the northwest. Alight breeze sprang up and 
Sir Alfred leaned out of the window, grateful for its 
refreshing effect. Suddenly there was a roaring noise 
accompanied by a horrible flash of lightning and 
deafening thunder. Then he heard doors opening 
and voices crying “A storm!” “To the cave!” “Hur- 
ry, hurry!” He rushed to Helen’s door, where he 
was shortly reinforced by Joe with Agnes in cap and 
gown, clinging to him. Helen was first dazed and 
then paralyzed with fright. Sir Alfred, unafraid, as 
most people are until distinguished by living through 
one cyclone, gathered her in his arms and staggered 
toward the cave. It was only a few rods from the 
side door, but on that short trip he saw one large 
tree, not twenty feet from the house, literally dragged 
out by the roots, and another large trunk nearer still 
snapped like a pipe stem. It seemed an eternity be- 
fore he should reach the door with his precious, 
helpless burden! 

The group inside, like most hasty gatherings of 
the terror-stricken, presented a most comical picture. 
The servants from stable boy to cook were present in 
various stages of dress — or undress. The host, with 
one shoe on and the other in his pocket, stood at the 
door listening. Joe had smashed his thumb in the 
fracas, and Agnes was kneeling by him blowing it. 


162 


A NEW WOMAN 


His lordship had succeeded in getting his clothes on, 
and had paused long enough before the mirror to curl 
his mustache hy a flash of lightning; but finding that 
he had forgotten his collar he sought obscurity be- 
hind an apple barrel. Mrs. Daniels, who considered 
being blown away no greater danger than the con- 
sumption from a sudden cold, had donned a warm 
wrapper and a pair of overshoes and a shawl about 
her head, while on one arm she carried numerous 
cloaks and shawls with which she quickly wrapped 
the distressed girls. Sir Alfred and Helen were 
clothed, but the latter seemed to be scarcely in her 
right mind, for she stood half turned to the wall 
sobbing and trembling. Suddenly the door flew open 
and the candle was extinguished, while the box upon 
which it sat was blown over. A din of ejaculations 
from the men and shrieks from the women arose. 
As Helen sobbed with fresh terror, Sir Alfred, who 
was standing near her, slid his arm around her waist 
and drew her to him, whispering the tenderest com- 
fort. As Joe relighted the candle Sir Alfred discreetly 
withdrew his embrace, but as they were in an ob- 
scure corner he retained her hand; and such a look 
as she gave him I 

“ ’Tw^as only a look, but it went to the heart; 

’Twas only a glance, but ’twas Cupid’s own dart.” 

In a short time the storm was spent. The host 
cried, ‘‘She’s over; come on. I hope the house is 
left.” Helen’s strength returned and she simply 
took the arm of her hero instead of occupying both 
as she had in their descent. The house was still 
standing, but the v i'ld ws were? sh.nttorod, and trees, 


A NEW WOMAN 


163 


boards and various other obstructions were scattered 
broadcast. 

Helen cast one hasty glance about her and hurried 
to her room and locked the door. She went and 
stood before her mirror and in a half peevish, half 
tragic voice said, “I’m lost, I’m lost I Oh, miserable 
fool; utter failure that I am!” Then glancing at her 
Iliad she cried, “That can do me no good now; my 
stage powers I might as well never have had. Oh, 
I’m lost, beyond redemption. And is he my ideal of 
manhood, because he has a fine head and broad shoul- 
ders? Idle, ambitionless. Oh, God, I might pray 
for help, but I’ve no faith in myself. I might as 
well have been born to wash dishes — yes, much bet- 
ter. Why did the Lord waste gifts on a thankless 
creature who will fling them to the winds, settle 
down in English society, be presented at court, be 
permitted to kiss her majesty’s hand; talk and sup 
tea, if not wine? Oh ye gods, heap curses on my 
head if I ever, ever leave my native land!” 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

His LORDSHIP was in his room pacing the floor. 
He wouldn’t stay another day in this God-forsaken 
countr}^ To drag a man out of bed and into the 
presence of ladies without giving him a chance to 
make his toilet was a little too much ! He would 
speak to Helen this morning; she must consent to 
a speedy marriage and then away to dear old London 
with a bride aiul three million dollars. He would 


164 


A NEW WOMAN 


buy a yacht and have the family diamonds reset. 
He wished there was time fora trousseau; and he 
stopped in his reverie to congratulate himself upon 
his escape from the marriage intended at his coming. 

The next morning Sir Alfred asked Helen to ac- 
company him to town, and his lordship suggested 
that he and Agnes be allowed to accompany them. 
He felt very little uneasiness about his friend’s at- 
titude toward Helen, knowing him to be so adverse 
to marriage, and thinking Helen so far from his 
ideal, yet he thought it nothing less than prudent to 
watch them, Since sunrise his lordship had been in 
much better spirits; they would be olf for Saratoga 
next day, and perhaps cyclones didn’t visit that 
Eden; so he concluded to give Helen time to send to 
Paris for her outfit. 

After dinner his lordship secured Helen’s company 
for a game of croquet and in the evening she and Joe 
played chess. Poor Sir Alfred was baffled. He had 
-scarcely slept the night before, anxious for the day, 
that he might boldly claim his own. Again in the 
solitude of his room he planned how to meet her 
without interruption, and decided upon the six o’clock 
croquet dodge. They had not played croquet since 
their quarrelsome game of the week before, and he 
had concluded to never again challenge her to do 
what he did so poorly; but that seemed his only 
chance to get ahead of his friend — for it was a phys- 
ical impossibility for his lordship to rise that early 
without Adams to assist him. So Helen received the 
following: 


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165 


“Dear Helen:— Please meet me in the morning at 
the croquet ground at the usual time. Your devoted 

“Alfred. ” 

Helen twisted the note, tore it in pieces and then 
stamped on the pieces; called herself a hopeless idiot 
and so forth. Yet she knew she would meet him. 
Oh, how she did wish for some settlement of all tliese 
conllicting questions ! If she only knew— Her tliouglit 
was interrupted by her taking note of a bright light 
out beyond the meadow. Wrapping a shawl about 
her shoulders,she slipped out of the house; she would 
consult the fortune-teller. 

It was just at this time that Sir Alfred, dreaming 
sweet dreams, was sitting at his window gazing out 
into the night. He was resting his head on his hand, 
thinkiiig with fast beating heart of the rapture await- 
ing liim, when he was startled by a stilled scream. 
He leaned out and listened. 

“What are you doing out alone, Helen, at mid- 
night; have you started to see the old witcli?” 

“Heavens, Joe, how you frightened me I But do 
you judge me by yourself?” 

“Certainly not; I heard a commotion among the 
stock and hurried out.” 

“In your hurry you didn’t forget your cuffs, Joe.” 
The face at the window smiled ; he thought what a 
good joke he would have on Helen — darling Helen, 
who couldn’t wait a few hours, but must consult a 
fortune-teller. 

“Nor your collar, nor your tie,” she went on. 

“Come, Helen, you’ve got me; but I was anxious 
to know if the old hag could tell anything. Well, 


166 


A NEW WOMAN 


let’s go together. Lucky for you that you did run 
across me, for there’s tramps everywhere.” 

•‘But I haven’t my watch nor any valuables with 
me. ” 

“Well, they’d just carry you off until I redeemed 
you.” The face above grew sober. 

“Come along, we won’t get back until near morn- 
ing.” 

“No, Joe, I don’t believe I will go.” There was 
no use of her going if with a third party. 

“Just as you choose,” Joe returned, a little wratiiy. 

“You think the Englishman will care? Oh, you 
needn’t protest; Agnes told me all about it, how you 
were coming home to angle for him^ Girls are as 
designing as the very devil; and he, the great chump, 
j)erfectly ignorant. ” The face at the window grew 
pale as death and drew back. And the two kept on 
talking without knowledge of having been heard, for 
they had not learned of the microbes that had neces- 
sitated the change of Sir Alfred’s room. 

“Well, Joe, I don’t intend to marry him, any- 
way.” And then she whispered, “Agnes is free now 
and the farce is over. What’s that?” she exclaimed, 
stepping nearer Joe as she saw a man jump behind a 
bush. “Joe, it looked like your father.” 

“It can’t be, though,” he replied in embarrass- 
ment. 

“But it was. Oh, goodness; he’s been to Mother 
Bonnelly’s. ” 

“But he don’t believe in such things.” 

“Neither do we. But we’d better be getting in.” 

The next morning Helen rose up early and dressed 


A NEW woman IG7 

herself in a neat new traveling dress. Taking her 
book, but forgetting her gloves, she went to the rus- 
tic seat at the croquet ground. She turned the leaves 
of the book but did not read, being too busy swal- 
lowing her heart and watching the path. Six o’clock 
came and no Sir Alfred, but she consoled herself 
with the thought that he was not due until half past, 
although she had expected him earlier. The weary 
minutes dragged themselves along. She took out her 
watch and sat looking at it ticking otf the time. At 
lialf past six she rose and leaned against a tree. At 
seven she was quivering with rage, and her eyes 
flashed lightning, but she gained control of herself 
and stood with her back to the house for another 
half hour. Then she started up the path and pres- 
ently she met the truant. She didn’t wait for him, 
but relaxing her face a little kept right on until they 
met. 

“I beg a thousand pardons. Miss Herman, but 
I did oversleep.^’ 

“I can easily forgive you, Sir Alfred, as I have 
just been enjoying the most refreshing sleep down 
under the elm. I awoke at five, but I was so sleepy 
t hat I knew if I fell asleep again I wouldn’t be in 
time, so I rose and came out here and have been 
napping ever since. Breakfast must be nearly ready; 
you know we were to breakfast a half hour earlier 
this morning.” 

“Yes, I believe so,” he said. “She don’t care a 
damn,” he thought. 

“I’m so glad we are going; it’s so dull here, al- 
though every one has been nice to me. Yet the coun- 


168 


A NEW WOMAN 


try must be dull when one is contemplating a season 
in Saratoga, with balls and rides and races and the 
roulette wheel or board — which is it?” 

He looked at her searchingly and said “wheel.” 

“Yes, of course, how stupid of me I And the wom- 
en play, I’ve heard, and his lordship has promised 
to teach me.” Then turning to him with surprising 
frankness, she said, “Please don’t tell anybody. 1 
don’t really believe in women gambling and I don’t 
intend making a regular business of it, but it won’t 
matter for just one summer; besides, nobody knows 
me. But I wouldn’t have Joe Easton know it for the 
world. Hello, here he is,” and a moment later they 
met him coming to ask if she would like to go to 
the depot on her bicycle or if she preferred the car- 
riage. 

“How are you going?” she asked. 

“Why, if you want to go on your wheel I will go 
on mine, but if you wish to ride we’ll take both the 
carriage and the phaeton.” 

“Let’s you and I go on the bicycles.” 

“All right. I’ll go and get them in shape.” 

“Let me go along. You will excuse me. Sir Alfred; 
business before pleasure, you know.” 

Sir Alfred was completely disgusted with Helen 
and provoked at himself. “She’s as heartless as all 
of the rest; but I won’t rush back to England like a 
love-sick boy; I’ll just stay and wear it out.” Why 
couldn’t he see that her heart was wounded, that her 
brain was on fire and that all her frivolous, reckless 
talk was to conceal the deepest humiliation? 

At breakfast the host was as jolly as a summer 


A NEW WOMAN 


169 


girl. Tiiriiiiig to Helen he said, “Why, you look as 
mischievous and charming as a witch.” Helen 
laughed, but none but Joe understood its real mean- 
ing. “If Joe were only ten years younger I’d thrash 
him, lock him up and play dandy myself.” 

“You are not old. I like gray hairs and bald 
heads and blxm coats like yours. Now blue coats 
make me feel patriotic. Were you in the war?” 

“Yes, for four years; I’ve helped x)lant the stars 
and stripes many a time and may have to fight for 
them again if labor trouble keeps brewing.” 

“It isn’t the flag or the government that these 
blow^s are aimed at, but the corrupt practices of cor- 
rupt men and the cowards in high places. The trouble 
to-day is that we have partisans instead of states- 
men, and representatives who too frequently recog- 
nize no constituency but their own private interests. 
The truth is that there are too many fellows in con- 
gress to-day and too few honorable men.” 

“Public men, as a rule, are just as honorable as 
they dare be, and if a man is loyal to his party prin- 
ciples, he is just as good a man as we can expect to 
find in this day and age of the world.” 

“But is the party true to the best interests of the 
country? is the question. If it is false, then he is a 
traitor. Why can’t men be true and honorable?” 
Sir Alfred glanced at her. She must be a regular 
Rebecca Sharp, he thought. Well, one thing sure, 
she could deceive him no longer. A woman who 
would be an actress, a public speaker, a politician 
and everything that his wife should not he! She 
could go on with her farce; he was now behind the 


170 


A New woman 


scenes, knew the art of her “making up,” so she 
could cast no glamour over him as he sat in the au- 
dience and looked on from the proper side I He won- 
dered how any one could be so deliberately wicked, 
and again cursed the higher education of women. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

The next morning our party awoke in Saratoga. 
Beautiful, gay, wanton, Saratoga, where wine flows 
so freely that we wonder, why the Lord wasted so 
much pure, life-giving water there I 
And a fine picture she presented that day, calcu- 
lated to intoxicate the most puritanical if they once 
gave way to an appreciation of sensuous beauty. 
The day was perfect, and every one seemed to be mak- 
ing the most of it. Magnificent turnouts thronged 
the boulevards, each glittering spoke a mirror reflect- 
ing the sunlight. Ladies in silks and jewels, much 
be-plumed,and,it must be confessed, much be-rouged, 
with happy, careless looks on their faces, leaned back 
luxuriously as they whirled along. Our party caught 
the contagion and soon were as gay as the gayest, 
Helen especially outdoing herself at repartee and 
sparkling frivolity. She seemed to have completely 
forgotten, to have never known anything about the 
crying needs of the country, “hunger and homeless- 
ness,” “despair and crime. ” 

That evening there was a ball at the hotel where 
our party were stopping. Agnes and Helen, in creamy. 


A NEW WOMAN 


171 


white, lace-trimmed silks, were escorted by Mrs. 
Daniels and Joe. If the day had been enchanting it 
had been as but a sunlit beach to the waves shim- 
mering in the moonlight, compared with this scene. 
Tropical plants, mirrors, pictures, statuary, and 
music that would have submerged the scruples of 
Tolstoi himself, were but a setting for the brilliant 
gathering of the beautiful, richly dressed women and 
gallant men, Ever3diody daneed; father and son, 
matron and maid, young and old — but pardon — no- 
body at Saratoga is ever old! 

After the dancing, couples and small parties broke 
away and seated themselves at small tables, where 
men and women 

“ Whose rising flush 

Might once have been mistaken for a blush,” 
drank wine without compunction. 


CHAPTER XXXVL 

As time passed at the gay watering place. Sir Al- 
fred adhered pretty well to his resolution to simply 
have a good time and not reveal his feelings to Helen. 
Certainly there were enough feminine hearts sighing 
for him to amuse him and satisfy his vanity, but he 
held himself aloof from anything more than casual 
acquaintanceship and pined in secret. He wasn’t 
sorry that he had found Helen out, but regretted 
that the knowledge had not come early enough to 
save his peace of mind. For over and over again 


172 


A NEW WOMAN 


had he recounted his summer experiences; of how he 
liad begun to love her; and how he Jiad thought of her, 
willi all her important, independent ways, a woman 
who, once awakened, would be capable of strong, deep, 
lasting affection. He could have stood her notions, 
even her stage and' political aspirations — until after 
he had married her — but the thought that she had 
schemed to marry him before she had seen him! 

Cupid is a powerful little god, but he is certainly 
not a wise one, else he would manage his affairs bet- 
ter. Oh, if Sir Alfred could have known how many 
times poor Helen cried herself to sleep, and seen her 
in the morning as she bathed her swollen eyes and 
coaxed her complexion not to tell tales. But he never 
even imagined anything of the sort. He thought her 
all but incapable of emotion; the one exception to 
her usual demeanor — engraven on fond memory — be- 
ing his only proof of her womanliness. 

He had watched, actually watched, to see if she 
ever entered any of the gambling establishments fre- 
quented by women. He had never seen her drink 
nor bet on the races, and this knowledge was a ray of 
happiness to his otherwise desolate heart. 

Once, when walking past a florist’s, he sauntered 
in, and taking a fancy to some roses, ordered a bou- 
quet. He had no distinct idea what he would do 
with it. Perhaps Agnes could use it! 

An hour later, Helen, in her room, arrayed in pink 
satin and lace, was bending over the same bouquet. 
A tear dropped among its petals; but she drew her- 
self up saying: “I won’t wear his flowers. I’ll have 
my revenge; I’ll bring him to my feet and then spurn 
him from me.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


178 


When she and Joe and Mrs. Daniels passed into the 
ball-room they happened to locate near Sir Alfred. 
He asked her to promenade with him. “Let me see 
your program,” he said. 

“Here it is. It is about full, though.” 

“Not quite; here is a quadrille, a waltz and a 
polka. ” 

“Why, you’ve taken the waltz and the i^olka and 
you don’t dance round dances at all.” 

“Well, you’ll be tired when you reach those num- 
bers and we will rest and talk. I don’t really see 
how women can dance all evening. It’s a wonder 
they have any health.” 

“Fiddlesticks! The woman who dances and 
moves about most has the best health. It’s the one 
who lounges about and sleeps until near noon who 
feels lifeless. But I have an apology to offer for not 
wearing your roses; they did not match my dress, 
and then you men seem to think that we can carry 
any amount of bric-a-brac about with us. Our trains 
are quite enough, I should think.” 

“No apology is necessary. Miss Herman; I didn’t 
really expect you to carry it. In fact I bouglit it 
for Miss Easton, but found that Mr. Algernon Du 
Boise had gotten ahead of me. I’m sorry that I 
bothered you with them.” 

“No, I’m glad I have them; they will go nicely 
wdth a basket of fruit I am going to take to some 
orphan children in the morning.” 

“I didn’t know that gay, careless women like your- 
self, and one who receives as much attention as you 
do, ever wasted a thought on any poor unfortu- 
nates.” 


174 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Oh, I can afford to give flowers that I do not 
have to pay for; and besides, if there is anything in 
the world that claims my sympathy, it is an orphan 
child. ” 

“How old were you when you lost your parents?” 

“They were both killed in a railroad accident 
wlien I was but little more than a year old.” 

“And had you no female relative to take care of 
you?” 

“No, I had a very faithful nurse, but she died 
when I was fourteen. But a creature like me did 
not need nurturing, and having lived so long as I 
have without affection I am insured against ever 
needing it. ” And she laughed. Sir Alfred looked 
at her, half suspecting her mirth was forced, and 
bending nearer he whispered something that was 
quite tender, to which she quickly replied: 

“Oh, pshaw! Women don’t think of such things 
as they once did. The girl is happiest who has the 
greatest number of young men at her beck and call; 
she don’t have deep, solemn questions puzzling her, 
making her wrinkled and old; she doesn’t want a 
husband to prove faithless, and children to break her 
heart. Why, a married woman’s joys are her torture; 
her husband, if he respects her, is a tyrant, expect- 
ing of her what she is disappointed in if she expects 
the same of him. You know it’s nice to make and 
execute your own laws. Oh, all of these little un- 
pleasant things could be avoided if girls were a little 
less earnest in their love and a little more serious in 
their flirtations. You understand I carry a flirtation 
just far enough to make it interesting, l)ut iiever get 


A NEW WOMAN 


175 


real serious — so much involved that some other good- 
looking man will not do as well. Now there is your 
friend ; he’s splendid company, and Joe Easton, the 
manliest boy that ever drew breath. But here is his 
lordship now,” and they watched him approach, 
happy and smiling, past battery after battery of 
bright, expectant eyes. Many were the fair girls 
whose hearts fell as he passed them by, and many 
were the fathers, who, though unused to prayer, si- 
lently thanked heaven for its watchful care I 

‘‘This dance is mine,” his lordship said upon 
reaching Helen’s side. 

“Yes, I know.” Sir Alfred retreated a few steps 
and stood watching. 

“Let me bring you a glass of wine before the dance 
begins. I noticed you tired considerably before the 
last was done. Your cheeks are not as rosy as they 
were in the country. The air and water of Saratoga 
do not seem to agree with you; you will have to try 
the English climate.” This was said in a low tone, 
but Sir Alfred heard and was even guilty of listening. 

“I believe I will try a glass of wine if you will be 
kind enough to bring it.” 

Just as she was raising the glass to her lips she 
encountered the stern, contemptuous gaze of Joe 
Easton, who had come to deliver a commission from 
Agnes. Her hand shook and the wine spilled over 
silk and laces. “Here, Your Lordship, take it, please ; 
I don’t believe I want it. I’m not feeling well and 
if you will excuse me, and Mr. Easton will escort 
me (Joe quickly offered his arm), I will go to Mrs. 
Daniels. ” 


176 


A NEW WOMAN 


Sir Alfred turned on Iiis heel and left, perfectly 
bewildered, saddened beyond anything bis pessimis- 
tic life bad ever known. 

His lordship stood holding the glass, indignant, 
and at a loss what to do. Just then he felt a rousing 
slap on his back and heard a familiar voice in his 
ear. “Hello, old boy; how’s your good health? 
What makes you look so fresh and cheerful and what 
are you doing with that champagne? better let me 
drink it, ” and the young man took the glass, and 
drained it. 

“Hoav are you, Mr. Snib? I didn’t know you were 
in Saratoga,” his lordship returned, glancing around 
to see if anyone had noticed the vulgar caress on his 
aristocratic back. 

“Well, I’m right here; and I consider myself 
strictly in it. Why, you’re like a full-blown rose, 
especially your nose. You’re taking too much whis- 
ky; you’d better dilute it and lessen the dose, or, 
better still, take the treatment. We have anti-drunk 
institutions all over the country, and some of the 
largest have from three to five hundred jags all the 
time. The process is almost painless except for a 
devilish sore arm. If you want to try it, why, I won’t 
tell on you; on the dead I won’t!” 

“I assure you, Mr. Snib, that I don’t need the 
treatment,” his lordship returned in a low voice. “I 
drink a little, but never get drunk. Englishmen 
never get drunk. ” 

“I understand, no man ever did need the treat- 
ment, just as women never lace or allow themselves 
to be kissed by any other man but their husband!” 


A NEW WOMAN 


177 


His lordship’s temper arose as he expostulated in 
vain. 

“Well then, it heats me what makes your face so 
red.” 

“Really, Mr. Snib, is my face red?” 

“As a boiled lobster. ” 

“Oh, heavens, what shall I do?” 

“Go to your room and soak your head in ice water, 
and then take a cold bath and you’ll be all right.” 

“But I’m engaged for every dance for the next 
three hours.” 

“Just let me take your place. I’ll make the best 
excuse in the world. I wanted to dance with that 
beautiful Miss Herman, but her card was full when 
I found her. ” 

“Miss Herman was feeling indisposed and has 
gone to her room,” his lordship said, eying the 
swaggering Adolphus suspiciDusly. 

“The devil she has! Well, I’ll take Miss Easton, 
but I won’t dance with that pigeon-toed Miss Young, 
—Miss Old it ought to be read,— not if she owned 
the moon and fenced at that! I guess you’d better 
stay until that’s off; you can probably keep on 
your legs that long,” and young Snib walked 
away, leaving his lordship with the empty glass in 
his hand, inwardly cursing American vulgarity. 

Joe and Helen took the elevator and were quickly 
on the third floor. “Come and sit by this window,” 
Joe said, leading her to a lovely alcove. 

“Joe, I know you are going to scold.” 

“Well, Helen, the fact is, I’m a little surprised.” 

“So am I, Joe.” 


178 


A NEW WOMAN 


“I never saw you act like that before. You know 
you were just joking with me at home.” 

“I never was so reckless before.” 

“There are lots of temptations here; it’s like liv- 
ing in hell and not getting scorched. Sometimes I 
have been scarcely able to resist the temptation to 
take a social glass. ” 

“Don’t you ever do it, Joe,” Helen said quickly. 

“I hope 1 never shall. This constant swilling dis- 
gusts me; and then total abstinence here distin- 
guishes one from the common herd.” 

“That is something, Joe, to be distinguished by 
being real decent. Oh, I would give anything if I 
had not made that public exhibition of myself. I 
wear the white ribbon, too. I’ll leave it off here- 
after, but I’ll never offer to drink again.” 

“I hope you’ll, stick to it, Helen. You don’t know 
liow I felt when I saw you with that glass at your 
lips, nor what men think of women who drink and 
gamble. I think a great deal of you, Helen; you 
have talked to me as no other woman ever did, not 
even Agnes; you have given me higher ideas and I 
want you — I want you — to be my friend.” 

“And you are already my friend, my brother, 
rather,” she said, with swimming eyes. Here some 
one passed them, but they failed to notice it, and a 
moment later Helen went to her room, after having 
secured Joe’s promise to go with her next morning 
on her errand of mercy, for she really intended go- 
ing. 

Once in her room a flood of tears came to her re- 
lief, and as she knelt by her bed and prayed with an 


A NEW WOMAN 


179 


aching heart, these words in a light, fresh voice 
floated in at the open window : 

“ Many a heart is aching, 

After the ball.” 


CHAPTER XXXVIL 

The next morning Joe and Helen made their call 
before breakfast, and upon their return, our party, 
with the exception of his lordship, breakfasted at 
nine. Then they rode to Columbian Spring, the one 
Mrs. Daniels patronized, or rather the one she was 
patronizing then, for she changed several times dur- 
ing her stay. After that, Joe and the two girls went 
to Congress Park, which iDresented the same gay 
scene it had the day before, and would again to-mor- 
row. 

As they strolled along, whom should they meet but 
George Sanderson? Joe grasped his hand, introduced 
Helen, and then said: “This is Agnes; you remember 
her and I’m sure she remembers you.” Agnes grew 
deathly pale and Joe, to settle the embarrassment, 
said, “I’ve got two on my hands, George, and I’m 
glad of your timely appearance,” and taking Helen’s 
arm he led on. 

“There, Joe, they are playing ‘The Star Spangled 
Banner.’ I never hear patriotic music that I don’t 
feel emotion and enthusiasm, and I have often won- 
dered if it was universal with people. I wonder if 
the peoj)le of other countries feel the same when they 
hear their national airs.” 


180 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Of course they do. I tell you there’s something 
in patriotism; it is a feeling distinct from all others. 
We feel love, sorrow, hate, disgust, reverence and 
we feel patriotism, and the man who isn’t moved hv 
it is a dead soul, and though he. were worth millions 
we could lose him without a sigh. Why, I would 
stick to my country if heaven forsook her.” 

“So would 1. But because there is no fighting 
to be done we mustn’t conclude there is nothing to 
do. If America is rid of foreign oppression she is 
by no means free from herself. And you surely see 
in all these clashing of interests, if not actual war, 
the imminent danger to our welfare as a united na- 
tion. ‘A house divided against itself cannot stand,’ 
and a country is a household in a large sense.” 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

And this was the woman Sir Alfred was trying in 
vain to shut out of his heart, out of his thought. No 
wonder he had learned to love her, for no acting, no 
assumed carelessness can entirely hide the effulgent 
light of a noble nature; nor can crude expressions 
of half-fledged, erratic ideas condemn one naturally 
gifted. And while he fancied that he tried to avoid 
her he found himself ever near her. As for her — 
“There is an unseen battle-field 
In every human breast, 

Where two contending forces meet, 

But where they seldom rest.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


181 


Her love for Sir Alfred and her personal ambitions 
Avere Avaging Avhat she kneAv must prove a decisive 
])atile, for if she chose to go on Avith her professional 
career, her love must be crucified, and if she married 
Sir Alfred, it Avould mean an eternal fareAvell to 
those dreams, those hopes she had cherished from 
early childhood. Then his treatment of her pained 
her almost beyond endurance; she could not under- 
stand it, but Avondered if it Avere not the promptings 
of a conservative nature — an attempt to check Avhat 
he thought might be obnoxious to her, and quite use- 
less to entertain. 

Upon returning to the hotel, Agnes went directly 
to her aunt’s room. 

“Are you dressed for dinner, dear?” 

“Yes, Auntie, I’m not going to dress again until 
evening. I Avant to talk to you.” 

“Oh, have you decided about your dress?” 

“No, it’s not about that at all. I’m not going to 
marry Lord Avon.” 

“Not going to marry him!” 

“No, the engagement Avas broken off before Ave left 
the country.” 

“Why, Agnesi You told me nothing about it!” 

“Well, I’m going to tell you all about it noAv. 
You don’t think me deceitful and scheming, do you. 
Auntie?” 

“No, no, but I’m sorry you didn’t confide in me. 
Older people ought to be consulted in such matters.” 

“Well, you remember George Sanderson,” and 
then,as Avas her Avont Avhen she had anything lengthy 
and hard to relate, she began boldly, and raj^idly 


182 


A NEW WOMAN 


related the main points, telling of her indifference 
to Lord Avon, of Joe’s meeting George, and the old 
feelings that news of him awakened in her; Helen’s 
plan to save her and how she had released his lord- 
ship. Then she rather bluntly said: “And George is 
here and I have promised to marry him.” 

“Oh, Agnes, you hasty child, why didn’t you wait 
until you had seen me?” 

“Why, you always liked George, and now he is 
such a good man and such a gentleman!” 

“What does he do?” 

“He is a temperance lecturer.” 

“But you are both so young, and he is poor. You 
won’t have five dollars where you’ve had a hundred. ” 

“Oh, we’ll get along. I’m not thinking about 
money matters.” 

“No, I suppose not; young people seldom do when 
they are in love and want to marry. What do you 
suppose you would know about taking care of a sick 
baby?” 

“Oh, dear, I’m not thinking of babies, either,” 
Agnes returned, with a very red face. 

“But no woman ought to enter the married state 
ignorant of its responsibilities.” 

“But how much more would I have known if I had 
married the — the— other one.” 

“Well, I didn’t exactly approve of that, either, 
hut you know I wasn’t consulted then. What will 
your father say?” 

“I will write to him this evening. There’s Joe’s 
voice; he’s coming to take us to dinner. Now, aunt, 
don’t look cross; George will be so glad to see you; 
oh, he’s with Joe!” 


A NEW WOMAN 


188 


A moment later Mrs. Daniels was shaking hands 
with George; she also kissed his cheek, and as she 
did so, Sir Alfred stepped out of the elevator and 
witnessed the affecting little scene. “Are the ladies 
ready to go down to dinner?” he asked, approaching 
them. Then after the introduction Joe assigned 
Mrs. Daniels to Sir Alfred, Agnes to George and 
started himself to find [Helen, only to find himself 
forestalled by his lordship. 

Sir Alfred was so befuddled that he began to doubt 
his own wits. There sat Agnes, with the stranger, 
both smiling and happy as if newly wedded. He 
glanced at her hand and saw in place of the diamond 
a modest pearl. His lordship was perfectly oblivious 
to everything except his conversation with Helen. 
What could it mean? and as soon as the ladies were 
di.sposed of he laid his hand on his friend’s arm and 
requested a private interview' at once. 

“What the devil is the meaning of this, old 
friend?” Sir Alfred asked, as soon as they were alone. 

“The meaning of what?” 

“Why, I thought I came to this country to act as 
best man for you.” 

“And I hope you wall not be disappointed; how- 
ever, the bride will not be the one w'e first supposed. ” 

“Then I am to understand that the engagement 
between you and Miss Easton is off.” Sir Alfred 
looked at his friend in supreme contempt. 

“The lady saw fit to dismiss me. I admit that it 
broke me up a little at the time, but the charming 
Miss Herman would replace an angel.” 

“So you are affianced to Miss Herman, are you?” 


184 


A NEW WOMAN 


“I regret to say, my dear friend, that I am not at 
the present time, but I hope to be soon.’’ 

“You are an avowed suitor, then?” 

“Yes, and that imioertinent Joe Easton knows it, 
but he is dishonorable enough to try to supplant me,” 
and with this well-aimed thrust he left the room. 

Sir Alfred stared absent-mindedly out of the win- 
dow at the throng on the lawn. Although he had 
resigned the idea of marrying Helen, he recoiled at 
the thought of any one else having her, and now he 
must stand back for his lordship, and then for Joe 
Easton. Well, it w’ould do no harm to see her now, 
he thought, and he resolved to be with her as much 
as possible. Noticing his party upon the lawn, he 
went down and secured a position near them. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

A BOY came along scattering handbills. “Oh, a 
play I” Helen exclaimed. “I’m going. ” 

“I don’t believe auntie will let us; she doesn’t ap- 
prove of theaters,” Agnes said. 

“She won’t need to go. You will take me, won’t 
you, Joe?” 

“Gladly.” 

“Oh, Miss Herman, you never ask a favor of me, 
your devoted slave,” his lordship whispered. 

“But I will ask you to dance with me to-night; 
you waltz divinely.” 

“I’ll dance the limit with you and that is three 


A NEW WOMAN 


185 


waltzes and two polkas. Be sure to keep them for 
me. Let’s drive out to the lake and have a boat- 
ride. ” 

“Oh, please don’t ask me to move. I’m too in- 
dolent and this air is too enervating.” 

“Well, I must move, I have an engagement,” his 
lordship returned, a little piqued. 

“And you would have neglected that for me? How 
kind of you I Well, I will go to-morrow if you wish.” 

“I’ll remember,” he said, as he turned to go. 

“Joe, you promised to take Aunt Kate and me out 
to Mount McGregor this afternoon.” 

“By George, I did! Glad you reminded me of it, 
Agnes. Would you like to go, Helen?” 

“I’d love to go, Joe, but I’m too lazy,” she said, 
smiling. 

When they had been gone a short time Helen said 
to Agnes, “You are my oracle; would there be any- 
thing improper in my going out for an hour or two?” 

“I shouldn’t think you would want to. The streets 
are crowded and you might meet with an accident. 
Can’t you wait until to-morrow?” 

“I want to go to-day, and-— well, I’m going, that’s 
all.” 

Sir Alfred came forward and offered his company. 
Helen blushingly accepted. 

“Where do you wish to go?” he asked, as they 
were stepping into the carriage. 

“I’ll give the orders,” she replied. He wondered 
what on earth she was up to now. 

“Let’s drive around awhile,” he ventured. 

“Well, after I get through with my errand. You 


186 


A NEW WOMAN 


know I’m going to seek a theatrical engagement and 
begin my stage life.” 

“Whatl Not that I’m surprised at anything, but 
I didn’t know you meant to begin so soon. I thought 
it was something in the future.” 

“I’ve idled too long now. I am disgusted to 
think how I have wasted this summer, when there’s 
so much to be done.” 

Then he again offered her his stock arguments 
against such a stej), only to be met with the scathing 
remark that self-satisfied, ambitionless people were 
a dead weight to the world, and the worst class of sin- 
ners, in her estimation. 

“But if you must do reform work, why don’t you 
choose a more likely line than the theater?” 

“They say the way to every man’s heart is through 
his stomach, and the way to the people’s minds is 
through their amusements. Why, they used to teach 
religion through the means of ‘miracle’ plays. I 
tell you there’s no field but the novelist’s, that com- 
pares with the stage as a teacher and a reformer. 
And there is no other class of people so unjustly 
abused as actors and actresses.” 

“That is simply because you don’t know anything 
about them. I’m not surprised when a fifteen-year 
old country girl runs off with a troupe, but I must 
confess that I am perfectly dum founded when a 
woman of your age and natural intelligence deliber- 
ately enters such work. And do you think you will 
be received into any company of worth without prep- 
aration?” 

“Why, my good man, I’ve been ’ studying for six 
years.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


187 


‘‘Have you had any lessons?” 

“Yes, for three years. I’ve been taking three 
lessons a week this last year, from an artist too.” 

“What will Lord Avon say?” 

“He will scold and pet me and exhaust his elo- 
quence trying to dissuade me, but it won’t do him 
any good.” 

“Well, I think you are a sample of the times. Miss 
Herman. Shall I go in with you?” 

“Oh, no, indeed; just wait here or go into the 
office. 

“Is the manager of the Metropolitan in?” she 
asked the clerk. 

“Yes. He just came in.” 

“I will go to the parlor, if you will kindly show 
• me the way. Tell him, please, that a woman would 
like to see him.” 

“One more unfortunate I” the manager ejaculated. 
“Can’t you tell her that I’m out?” 

“I’ve already told her that you were in. You’d 
better go and see her, she’s a stunner,” 

“One of the sweet sixteen kind.” 

“Not much.” 

“Well, I suppose I must, but hereafter tell them 
I’m out or sick, or anything plausible.” 

“You are the manager of the Metropolitan, Ipre* 
sume,” Helen said. “My name is Helen Herman 
and I have come to see if I can secure a position in 
your company.” 

“No, not now; there is no vacancy.” 

“But I thought you might want to engage ahead; 
or that you might have a vacancy soon.” 


188 


A NEW WOMAN 


“It’s always an easy matter to find a woman.” 

“What, a good actress easy to find?” 

“Why, yes. We have a score of applications. 
What experience have yon had?” 

“I have never been on the stage, but I have had 
three years’ instructions. Here is my recommenda- 
tion from my last teacher.” 

“Oh I” he exclaimed, as he caught the signature. 

“I am my best in such parts as Meg Merrilies and 
Lady Macbeth. I can play any tragedy, but I’m 
afraid I couldn’t do the sentimental.” 

“Do you think you could shed real tears on the 
stage?” 

“I could do anything under the inspiration of a 
large audience.” 

“Do you think you could play such parts as 
Camille and Odette?” 

“I might, but I’d much rather play heavier parts, 
and then I’m conscientious about it. i don’t really 
believe such are very edifying.” 

“You may be right, but it is not what a woman 
does while on the stage, but her conduct in private 
life, that degrades the profession. But I didn’t go 
into business for the purpose of ennobling it; it’s 
purely a matter of business with me. How old are 
you?” 

“I am in my twenty-first year and have no rela- 
tives living.” 

“And no young gentleman friend who will jump 
onto me and threaten to blow my brains out?” 

“No, no.” 

“I have no place now and don’t know exactly 


A NEW WOMAN 


189 


when I will have. Are yon really in need of employ- 
ment?” 

“Oh, no. I’m an heiress. I have chosen this sim- 
ply because I think I’m fitted for it.” 

The shrewd manager’s small eyes twinkled at this. 
This business was worth investigating after all I Per- 
haps the young woman couldn’t act, but her appear- 
ance was certainly magnificent and her being rich 
would be quite a card. Bu(t how much was she 
worth? he wondered. “You are an orphan, twenty 
years old and heiress to — a hundred thousand?” 

“My prospects are much brighter than that,” she 
said modestly. “My estate is valued at something 
over three millions.” 

Mr. Vaut’s mind was made up. This was certainly 
luck! For he would hire her on a small salary, take 
her to London and make a barrel of money I 

“Miss Herman, I’m not a rich man; I can’t pay 
you a sufficiently large salary to induce you to accept 
a place in my company. I have always given the 
lighter dramas, but if my leading lady could play 
heavy parts I would change our repertoire, I think. ” 

“Oh, I’m sure I could please you.” 

“I will give you a trial to-morrow afternoon if you 
will come to the rehearsal.” 

“I will be there. At what time?” 

“Half past two.” 

“You can depend on me,” she said, and took her 
departure. 

“Now where shall we go?” Sir Alfred asked. 

“Out to Woodlawn; there’s so much room there. 
I like lots of room.” 


190 


A NEW WOMAN 


“You’ll hardly find it in the business you’ve 
chosen. Well, how did you succeed?” he asked with 
feigned indifference. 

“Better than I had hoped. He told me to come 
for a trial at the rehearsal to-morrow. It’s all right. 
I’ll get the place. ” 

“You have plenty of self-assurance, Miss Her- 
man.” 

“‘Those who doubt themselves have reason to,’ 
some great man has said.” 

“Miss Herman, you are the first woman I ever met 
that I couldn’t understand if I chose.” 

“Any woman can deceive a man if she wants to.” 

“Then you don’t want me to understand you?” 

“The truth is, Sir Alfred, that I don’t exactly un- 
derstand myself. I used to think I knew myself per- 
fectly. I used to think it was belter to be engaged 
constantly in reform work; to be always working in 
some cause. I longed to he as the respectable mar- 
ried woman is — that is, her style. Yon know she is 
very dignified, proud of herself, thanking God that 
she is not as other women ^are. That, may be the 
])roudest att itiide and I used to fancy it; but since 
I ve known you. I’ve been tempted to lling care to 
t!ie winds, mingle with the herd, laugh when they 
laugh and forget that sorrow, misery and desolation 
ar:^ ■ n every hand; to shut my ears to the cries of tlie 
weak and helpless, and laugh while heaven and the 
angels weep.” 

“Oh, Miss Herman, you’ve misunderstood me; it 
was never my intention to make you careless or friv- 
olous. ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


191 


“Yet more than once yon have said, ‘Why bother 
yourself about these things? you do not need to. 
Leave such things for older and wiser heads. ’ Sir 
Alfred Gates, don’t you believe that ‘knowledge of 
duty done is rich reward?’ One’s life may be hard, 
disappointments and sorrows may strew the way 
from the cradle to the grave, but it is something to 
know when he has reached the last station that the 
world is better for his having lived in it.” 


CHAPTER XL. 

Two days later, when our party was seated upon 
the lawn, a messenger brought Helen a note. 

“I must go down-town, Joe; won’t you go with me 
to act as protector? Agnes is afraid I will try to 
run a race with a street car, or try to dash in front 
of one just for the novelty of the thing.” 

“Certainly. I’ll get a carriage.” 

“No. I’m in a hurry,” she said in an undertone. 
“Just call a cab. 

“Oh, Joe, my chance has come,” she confided when 
they were seated. 

“How?” 

“You know Vaut gave me a trial yesterday and 
he was so pleased that he promised me w^ork the 
coming season; but to-day his leading lady is sick, 
seriously, he thinks, and he wants me to take her 
place right away. I’ll play to-night, but don’t you 
tell anybody, and you must intercede for me when I 


192 


A NEW WOMAN 


ask Mrs. Daniels if I can go. She won’t want to 
go, but you might take me, and Agnes and George 
might be persuaded to go. Now don’t expect me to 
do very well in the rehearsal, as empty seats are no 
inspiration. ” 

So Helen played Juliet that night, and although 
she would have preferred a heavier part, she did so 
well that the manager came to her afterward, asked 
her^terms and insisted on a contract at once and 
told her they would sail shortly for England. 

‘‘Make any conditions and any price; I will sign 
the contract at once. But I have a suggestion. Short 
skirts are customary for dancing girls, but don’t you 
think the dance could be as gracefully executed if 
the skirts were a little bit longer? Such things are 
demoralizing. And don’t you think the idea is 
threadbare? You might make a great hit if you in- 
vented something new for the ballet.” 

Mr. Vaut understood Helen and knew that he must 
use some show of logic with her. “Miss Herman, I 
know you have a good idea of the artistic, the beau- 
tiful, and you probably know that to-day people are 
more artistic and poetical than ever before. Now, 
if you were to go into an art gallery and look upon 
the pictures wrought by old and renowned masters, 
would your eyes see nothing but the nude? would not 
the art, the poetry, the soul of the thing stand out 
so conspicuously that the nudity would be lost sight 
of?' It is so with the ballet; the ease, the grace, the 
poetry of the movement is what the refined see; only 
the low and the vulgar think of the gross outline. 
‘To the pure all things are pure, ’ and surely, Miss 
Herman — ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


193 


‘‘Make out the contract and I will sign it at once. ” 

He wanted her to engage fora year, but she would 
only hire for the fall and winter, as her financial 
affairs in America would require her presence the 
coining spring. 

When she stepped out at the stage door she was 
surprised to find Sir Alfred waiting for her. “Where’s 
Joe?” she asked. 

“Miss Easton was not well when she came, it 
seems, and Joe had to take her home. Are you ready?” 

“Oh, I guess she’s just a little nervous from the 
emotional strain of the past few days and blue be- 
cause Mr. Sanderson had to leave this afternoon. 
Yes, I’m ready. But who told you I was to take part 
to-night.” 

“Why, I guessed it from your maneuvers; and I 
knew you the minute you came on.” 

“Where is your friend?” 

“At the hotel, I suppose; he wasn’t at the thea- 
ter.” 

Helen was actually nervous during the ride. Fi- 
nally she said: “I guess you are not going to offer 
your opinion, so I shall ask you for it.” 

“You were simply perfect. But just to satisfy my 
curiosity, won’t you tell me something about your- 
self and how it is that you are so ambitious?” 

“Why, it’s no uncommon thing to-day for women 
to be ambitious.” 

“But you must have had some special inheritance 
of that sort.” 

“I don’t know what my parents were. I was always 
considered an odd child, but nothing remarkable 


194 


A NEW WOMAN 


that I know of. But it was an old man who lived 
near us — aiurse and I — to whom I owe the awakening 
of my ambitions. I believe that man had read every- 
thing in the English language; he seemed to know 
something about everything that could be mentioned. 
I used to stop there on my way to and from school 
for a drink of water, when he would talk to me about 
my lessons and tell me stories. Then he loaned me 
books, but they were beyond my years ; I remember 
that he gave me ‘Plutarch’s Lives’ when I was not 
twelve years old. I shirked reading it until he got to 
catechising me about the different men and their ex- 
ploits. So I made myself read two pages a day and 
then five until I got interested. He’d pat me on 
the head and tell me I’d make a great woman some 
day; but if I ever said I disliked any book he loaned 
me, he’d simply say that I hadn’t read enough to 
judge very accurately. That stirred my pride and I 
determined to inform myself on every subject possi- 
ble; that’s how it began and I’m not sorry.” 


CHAPTER XLI. 

The evening before the day of Helen’s departure 
had arrived and she and Joe were walking in Con- 
gress Park. The band was playing “Home, Sweet 
Home.” 

“Isn’t the music lovely? But that doesn’t mean 
anything to me.” 

“Well, Helen, it’s your own fault. You could have 
your choice among a dozen.” 


A NEW WOMAN 


195 


‘‘I don’t believe that; but I don’t want anybody. 
I think I’ll probably settle down after a term of pub- 
lic life, adopt three or four orphan children and ed- 
ucate them.” 

‘‘Good heavens! Anything else you intend to try 
your hand at? But, mark my word: if you goto 
England you’ll never come back single. I’m down 
on Englishmen, but I’ll be fair and admit that Lord 
Avon isn’t a fair sample.” 

“Oh, they’re all right in their own country, but 
they are out of their place fortune-hunting in Amer- 
ica. Did you ever hear of a titled foreigner marry- 
ing a poor American girl? And do you suppose his 
lordship would have wanted Agnes or me either if he 
hadn’t known that we had great expectations?” 

“And how about the other one?” 

“Oh, he doesn’t want any,rich or poor, ut haun’t 
we better go back? they are dancing and I want to 
trip the light fantastic with his lordship before I 
go ” 

“Won’t there be weeping and wailing when he 
knows you are gone? He’ll want to murder us all 
for conspiring to keep it from him. He thinks he’s 
got a mortgage on you.” 

“I don’t see why he should. I refused him twice 
last night.” 

“S’pose he thought two negatives made an affirm- 
ative. ” 

“Oh, but last night wasn’t the first siege. Why, 
every time I’ve danced or walked or rode with him 
the last two Aveeks, it’s been the same story.” 

“The great milksop!” 


196 


A NEW WOMAN 


“Don’t, Joe, I like him; he’s a perfect cure for 
melancholy. And he has the loveliest hair I ever 
saw. ’ ’ 

“Well, Helen, don’t entirely forget me when you 
are away. Will you write?” 

“Yes, often, and tell you everything. You are the 
best friend I have in the world,” she said as they 
passed into the ball-room. 

The next day Helen sailed. No one but the Eastons 
and Sir Alfred knew of it at the time, but the so- 
ciety papers made much of it later. Of course her 
friends had remonstrated with her. Agnes cried 
day and night; Mrs. Daniels talked, scolded and 
pointed out every actress of unsavory reputation as 
a warning; Joe thought it “a crazy scheme” and his 
father came up from Washington and gave Helen a 
plain, straightforward, fatherly talk. Sir Alfred said 
nothing, but lost no opportunity to sneer, which only 
made her more determined. She vowed that before 
many years should pass he would know of her play- 
ing on the best stages of America and England. So 
she went full of hope. 

His lordship was almost beside himself. He raved 
and wanted to wring Joe’s neck and to meet Sir Al- 
fred with a gun. 

“What’s the girl to you?” he said to his friend 
when they were alone. 

“No more than any intelligent woman, ” Sir Alfred 
answered calmly. 

“Well, she’s much more than that to me, I wish 
you to know. I would marry her to-morrow if she 
were penniless; if she were a chambermaid in this 
very hotel. Who’s there?” 


A NEW WOMAN 


197 


“Joe Easton.” 

“What’s your business? Come in, d — nyoii, ” 

“Now, what’s all this row? Miss Herman re- 
quested me to keep her secret from you.” 

“Yes, and you two stood calmly by and let that 
girl go to her ruin.” 

“I imagine that Miss Herman can take care of 
herself without any of our help. She has done so 
for twenty yeaa’s, ” Joe said provokingly. 

“What do you know, you upstart?” 

“That she has refused you, times without number, 
and a girl who can refuse a title is safe anywhere.” 

“She’ll not find it so on the stage in London. 
Though she were an angel she would be scandalized. 
I tell you, you don’t know what you are talking 
about, you schoolboy.” 

“What is it to you, you curly-pated dandy? What 
would you care for her if you were not after her 
money? It’s only her money you’re after. You 
were engaged to my sister three months ago. You 
infernal scoundrel, there ought to be some law — ” 

“Your sister deserves all respect from me. She 
saw fit to dismiss me.” 

“I should have disowned her if she hadn’t. Miss 
Herman’s three millions had a remarkable effect on 
your affections; it was a case of love at first sight!” 

“I’m not after a rich wife. I’d marry Miss Her- 
man if she didn’t have a cent.” 

“Talk is cheap!” 

“This is my room, Mr. Easton!” 

“And I’ll vacate gladly enough. But you needn’t 
jump onto Sir Alfred; he had no more to do with it 


198 


A NEW WOMAN 


than the rest of iis. She knew you wouldn’t have 
any more of the gentleman about you than to take 
passage on the same steamer, and a girl who cares 
anything for her reputation don’t want you hanging 
around her,” Joe said, as he slammed the door. 

Sir Alfred was as calm as the proverbial cucumber 
When the door closed behind Joe, his lordship turned 
to his friend, saying: 

“That bet can be counted off so far'as I am con- 
cerned. I haven’t won so far, but if I am fortunate 
enough to win Miss Herman, why, I won’t accept 
the money, so don’t bother yourself on that score 
any longer.” 

“If you win the bet, my lord, it will most certainly 
be paid.” 

“It will not be accepted on Miss Herman, I want 
you to understand. And now that’s all; I’m going 
home on the next vessel.” 


CHAPTER XLII 

Lord Barnett was entertaining a few of his bach- 
elor friends in a very swell manner at a fashionable 
London club house. The manager of the Metropol- 
itan had, by hook and crook, secured an invitation 

“Who is our American guest? — an official?” Sir 
Wm. Ellerton asked of a half drunken earl at his 
side. 

“Oh, no, he’s the theatrical (hie) man. He’s got 
the damn’dest (hie) handsomest actress in all (hie) 
London. I want to meet her. (hie.) Mr. Vaut, 


A NEW WOMAN 


199 


my friend wants to (hie) know your business, 

(hie 

“Why don’t you bring him to my theater. My 
leading lady, if she were playing at the Lyeeum or 
the Royal, would draw all London. And besides be- 
ing an aetress, she is an heiress.” 

“Oh, indeed!” several exelaimed, and somebody 
said: “Heiresses are thiek in Ameriea, but they don’t 
usually go upon the stage, do they?” 

“There’s no accounting for women,” the -wily 
manager said. “You must see my star to appreciate 
her magnitude I’ve got her for the winter and per- 
haps longer. But I am surprised that Lord Avon has 
not told of the fair and rich American. Pardon me. 
My Lord, perhaps you have some private personal 
interest in my star.” 

His lordship’s blood boiled; he wanted to choke 
the blackguard. But speaking as calmly as he could, 
“No, Mr. Vaut, I have no other interest in Miss Her- 
man than that which any gentleman should feel for a 
friendless girl, but I hope to soon have a claim upon 
her that will frustrate your plans.” 

The manager couldn’t understand the situation, 
but risked this reply: “I beg your pardon. My Lord, 
but I have as good an opinion of Miss Herman as you 
can possibly have, and I know that she will not 
break her contract.” 

The next day his lordship tried in vain to see 
Helen, going repeatedly to her hotel only to find her 
out. He knew better than to go to the rehearsals,for 
she never accepted company on her trips to and from 
the theater, and, besides, he felt sure that he would 
kill that manager if he got half a chance. 


200 


A NEW WOMAN 


That night the theater was packed, Vant’s judi- 
cious advertising at the wine-supper having accom- 
plished his purpose. Helen was greeted with round 
after round of applause, encored and showered with 
flowers and gifts. The manager was in high glee. 


CHAPTER XLIIL 

The next day Helen was about to start for the re- 
hearsal when a sharp knock sounded at the door. 

“What’s wanted?” she asked. 

“The manager was hurt, perhaps fatally, about a 
half-hour ago,” the messenger, a member of the 
company, replied. “He was having some new scen- 
ery hung and one of the frames fell, striking him 
on the head.” 

“Where is he? we must go to him at once.” 

“At the hospital, but it’s no use to go, Ave wouldn’t 
be allowed to see him. But what are we going to do? 
He owed every one of us — and the landlord a big 
sum. ” 

“Well, I’ll stana responsible for the board bill 
I’ve just got a remittance from home,” picking up 
an unopened letter. “Tell the girls not to worry. 
You’d better notify some of Mr. Vaut’s English 
friends,” and the messenger passed on. 

She opened her letter and found the amount sent 
to be one thousand dollars, just one-half the amount 
she had asked for. “Well, that will do for this emer- 
gency and I guess I won’t need the costumes for a 


A NEW WOMAN 


201 


while at least; but why didn’t I get all I sent for?” 
and as she read her letter Lord Avon’s card was sent 
up. 

“Show him up,” she said. 

“I was to see you twice yesterday, Helen,” he said, 
as he sat down beside her. 

“Yes, but I can’t give you very much time to-day*. 
Our manager met with perhaps a fatal accident a 
little while ago and — ” 

“Thank the Lord I Oh, Helen—” 

“Why, My Lord, I’m surprised!” 

“Well, I’m glad his blood is noton my hands, but 
I’ve wished him dead. I had all I could to keep from 
challenging him for his conduct at Lord Barnett’s 
supper.” 

“He didn’t say any harm of me?” 

“No, but he mentioned your name in that — ” 

“Oh, well, that doesn’t hurt me any.” 

“Helen, you don’t know. Oh, darling, I’ve not 
slept, I’ve been nearly crazy the past two days. You 
must, you must listen to advice. I love you, God 
knows I love you, but that’s neither here nor there. 
Just heed what I tell you: you must quit such a per- 
ilous calling.” 

“Well, I’m likely to at least take a vacation, un- 
less I get another place. I’m thinking of going back 
to America.” 

“Oh, darling, I wish you would; and you may 
guess how dangerous I know it to be here, to ask you 
to do such a thing. Go back to your home and 
friends. ” 

“I haven’t any to go to.” 


20S 


A NEW WOMAN 


What do you mean?”. 

Just what I said. This letter informs me that 
my fortune has gone in a bank failure. I’ve only 
this thousand in all the world.” 

‘‘Thank God! Oh, Helen, you won’t doubt me 
now. I know you’ve always thought me simply after 
your money; and I’m glad, so happy! Darling, I’m 
not rich, but I can take care of you. I never worked 
in my life, but I could work for you if you would 
come to me now. Don’t go back to America. Oh, 
what more can I say, what more can I do to prove 
my love for you?” 

“Nothing,” she said, brokenly. “Your kindness 
touches me deeply — I do not doubt your love, but I 
do not love you in return.” 

“But you might learn to. Darling, I’m a changed 
man. I am through with my reckless companions 
and I will live so that you would — Oh, I know we 
could be happy together. Won’t you be my wife?” 

“No, my dear friend, I respect you, I like you, 
but I can’t marry you.” 

“Helen, is your answer final?” 

“Yes,” she said, with swimming eyes. 

“My punishment has been terrible. A year ago I 
thought no American woman would refuse a title, 
but I must hereafter think better of America. But 
didn’t you at first try to lead me on? you certainly 
didn’t do it, Helen, for the pleasure of rejecting 
me.” 

“No, no; it was wicked enough, though not that 
bad. My Lord, you have been so honorable with me 
that I must make a confession. Was that some one 
at the door?” 


A NEW WOMAN 


203 


‘‘I heard nothing.” And then Helen told him the 
whole story of the scheme for her release of Agnes. 

“It’s my punishment, Helen. There was once a 
young girl who thought as much of me as I do of you. 
I took advantage of her love and now she is in the 
insane asylum. Poor Cleonice, you are now avenged. ” 

“Cleonice who?” 

“Cleonice Dupont.” 

“Why, I knew her; we were schoolmates at L — . 
She told me her trouble, but not the author of it. 
You say she is in the asylum?” 

“Yes. I suppose she sold her jewels and went to 
school, when she found I was to be married. I have 
been to see her once. She didn’t know me, but 
calmly told me to take my place in the class. She 
thinks she is a Bible teacher and is trying to prove 
to her companions that the resurrection is at hand, 
when we will be reunited.” Helen started and 
thought to say that it was Cleonice’s trouble, not her 
religion, that caused her insanity, but his lordship 
was too impassioned to be interrupted. “It was 
awful, Helen. Oh, my remorse and my love for you 
will kill me. I only wish that such relief as came 
to her might come to me; that I might look upon you 
and not know you. But I can’t hope for such mercy. 
I must go now. ” And taking her hand for an instant, 
he bade her good-bye. Then at the door he turned 
and gave her one look as she stood weeping in the 
middle of the room, and was gone. 

His footsteps had hardly died away when the door 
was thrown open and Sir Alfred entered. 

“Helen, I read of the failure in the morning’s 


204 


A NEW WOMAN 


paper, and fearing it would atfect yon, I resolved to 
come and see you. While on my way here I read of 
the accident and I rushed up without sending a card. 
Hearing voices within, I stood undecided for a mo- 
ment and heard your confession to my friend. Now 
I wish to make one. I didn’t understand; oh, how 
I wish I had known that ‘the Englishman’ meant his 
lordship 1” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Helen, did it never occur to you that I loved 
you?” 

“I’m sure that I never speculated much about the 
matter. You speak in riddles, Sir Alfred.” 

For once in his life Sir Alfred was excited; the 
thought of Helen’s position, the matter of her con- 
fession, her refusal of his lordship and the notion 
that he had gathered from her conversation that she 
meant to quit the stage, being too much for him. 
Even his lordship had been, if not more calm, at 
least more collected than he, as he recounted the 
different phases of his feelings since he had known 
her, and explained his conduct of the last few 
months. 

“I was a fool. Why couldn’t I have known? I can 
never forgive myself for my harshness toward you. 
For you did, honestly, Helen, didn’t you care for me 
a little?” 

“Yes,” Helen returned in a cold, calm, though not 
hard voice. “I confess that I did, and would at one 
time have renounced all my ambitions to become 
your wife. My conscience and reason were over- 
borne by my feelings. I thank you after all for your 
unkindness. ” 


A NEW WOMAN 


205 


“Why, yon haven’t gotten over it so soon?” 

“Oh, yes, I have. And it’s so queer. Why, I 
vowed I would bring you to iny feet; it was my great- 
est ambition, and now that you come, I am perfectly 
inditferent. Isn’t it strange? I’ve lived an age 
since morning. Oh, I’m not going to resign my am- 
bitions; don’t think that. The world shall yet hear 
of me as a star in my beloved calling, but things are 
in such a state politically that I believe I will en- 
gage at once in lecturing. I will work for — ” 

“You will fail, ’’Sir Alfred said, himself again, as 
he rose to leave. 

“I will work for the election of good men — not for 
myself; yet I may fail, but my beloved country shall 
have my best efforts at least. I will be true to her 
in every thought and deed.” 

“A thankless, loveless life, you will find. And you 
will sometime realize that as one God rules the uni- 
verse, so one passion rules the heart, and realize that 

“ ‘The light of the whole world dies, 

When love is done.’ ” 


THE END. 


SISTER GRATIA 

BY 

C. EDGAR SNOW 


This fascinating new novel from the pen of Chaun- 
cey Edgar Snow is sure to attract widespread attention. 
In point of originality, thrilling interest and good moral 
motive, “Sister Gratia” has no peer. The book is real- 
istic, but not marred with evil license or moral taint; 
it is dramatic, but not ranting; it has a purpose, but 
not to “reform the human race,” or to “furnish bread 
for the hungry; ” its object is to elevate, enliven and 
entertain. 

The opening chapter of “Sister Gratia” admits us into 
“one of those old houses in the picturesque environs of 
gay Paris,” and here we are introduced to the two hero- 
ines and the hero of the story. Of the two beautiful 
girls we at first cannot decide which will enlist our sym- 
pathy. “Sister Gratia” takes us through Paris, Flor- 
ence, Rome and New York City; it introduces us to 
Evert Dollond, whose noble character wins our endear- 
ment; to Grace and Lillian, the former strong and true 
to friendship for the latter, who, in consideration of 
her unrequited love for Evert, enlists our sympathies; 
to M. Jean Orfila, a kind hearted but eccentric French- 
man of means, in whose disposition is a fine sense of 
the humorous; to Count Victor Villemain, the shrewd 
schemer who endeavors to win by fair or foul means the 
love of Grace; and who, being a sagacious man of the 


SISTER GRATIA 


World, touches the foul fingers of felony with so light an 
impress as to challenge our wonder if not admiration; 
to the Marquis de Vilbonne, a “cold, dignified person- 
age” who aids the count in many gentlemanly (?) en- 
terprises; to the cautious coachman, Antoine, and 
Madame Fesch, Count Villemain’s housekeeper, who “is 
but a living monument of bone and skin; ” and then 
come numerous minor characters of more or less im- 
portance; and last to be considered by us is that “pretty 
little mite of humanity,” Camille, of only four sum- 
mers; for her sweet self lives are risked and fortunes 
spent; and yet, in her own words, “Camille ain’t dot 
no doll,” she acknowledges her poverty. 

With a nicety of tact Satan himself is made to strut 
upon “this diminutive ball of substance and matter;” 
and the way his Satanic Majesty scores the weakness, 
the sinfulness and the moral depravity of aristocratic 
humanity, is truly soul-stirring. And from the open- 
ing sentence of “Sister Gratia” to the denouement on 
the final page of the book there is carried through this 
story a plot of thrilling interest. To achieve personal 
possession of the beautiful “Sister Gratia” becomes 
Count Villemain’s object in life; to ascertain which 
girl, Grace or Lillian, is his sister, Evert Dollond spends 
a fortune and endangers his life repeatedly; to shield 
from the dagger’s thrust the body of the man she loves, 
Lillian throws herself before the glittering blade; to 
save her maiden virtue and prove to the world that, in 
the nineteenth century, there are women who would 
prefer death rather than surrender honor, “Sister 
Gratia” becomes a prisoner. And so we might go on 
indefinitely reciting incidents that occur in this bril- 
liant story, whose men and women seem to live and 
breathe, Paper, 25 cents. 


FREE LAND! 

Why complain of hard times 

when you can get ICO acres of Government land in 
Colorado at a nominal cost? The total expense after 
you are once in Denver, will be a little more or less 
than $50. 00, according to your location. This includes 
Land Office fees, going to the land and returning to 
Denver, locating and surveying. 

Some of this land is in Elbert County, in the famous 
‘‘Bijou Basin,” where irrigation is absolutely unneces- 
sary. It is about 45 miles from Denver and 85 from 
Colorado Springs, the two best markets in the state. 

The land in Lincoln County is right on the line of 
the railroad and can be irrigated if desired. It is all 
close to three lines of railroad. In a few year's these 
lands will be worth thousands of dollars. Why not 
take advantage of your homestead right, while there is 
still an excellent choice and before the best lands are 
taken? We can secure reduced rates of transportation 
for prospective settlers. Good Government Lands will 
not last much longer, and any who have not already 
taken advantage of their right should do so at once. 

For further information, address 

BROWER & CO., 

Government Land Locaters and Surveyors, 

51 Bank Block, Denver, Colo. 

Hugo, Lincoln County, Colo., office opp. Land Office. 

91 18th Street, Flat 4, Chicago, 111, 




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